The Brink
by IHateSnakes
Summary: The Brink is a compilation of chapters from A Life Rescued that require a Mature rating. The chapters here correspond with the Teen rated chapters in ALR.
1. Chapter 36: The Brink

**A Life Rescued  
Part 4  
Chapter 36 - The Brink  
**(Please read & review, it makes us better writers.)

_Disclaimer: The world of Terabithia belongs to Katherine Paterson and her publishers.  
I'm just playing around in it for a while. No profit was, or will be received from this story. _

The flurry of activity that marked the end of eighth grade had just subsided when Jesse Aarons found that Leslie Burke was ready and eager to start working on the first item of her list of summer projects. But over the past few days, since their talk by the creek, Jesse had seen little of his girlfriend as she helped her mother prepare their house for the arrival of her twin cousins from Arlington.

This unexpected delay in Leslie's professed first objective for the summer provided time for Jesse's imagination to run a bit wild with ideas about how she planned to improve their lip-to-lip communications. It wasn't that he didn't have _any_ ideas about how to advance their style and form; he had seen and heard plenty from Mikey and Tom. More than he wanted to, in fact. Jesse also hoped to build on his experience from the previous summer, when he discovered that kissing Leslie behind her ear, particularly on her scar, caused her to make some of the noises he was learning to associate with pleasure. He smiled recalling his mother's panic at what she had called his _unintentional intimacy_. That was one area he was more than happy to attempt to recreate.

_Then there was the tongue__ thing._ Jesse had seen enough of Ellie and Toby before he shipped off to boot camp to realize that swapping saliva could not be _completely_ disagreeable. Leslie's few, tentative, and long-past touches of her tongue to his lips reminded him of their first conversations about French Kissing. Now, a year later, the idea was nowhere near as revolting. He resolved to take more of the initiative at their next opportunity.

Muddled among these two distinctly adolescent goals were other more provocative ones, like those that flashed into his mind when he thought about the Keane sisters in Tom's camera, or Leslie in her ill-fitting bathing suit, or even the time when he thought he would have the opportunity to see Grace Jacobs' occupied undergarments. He shivered while trying to determine the appropriate balance between what he wanted and what he might be allowed to achieve.

Of course, there was the other side of the coin to consider, too. What would _he_ allow _Leslie_ to do to him…with him? Kissing, sure. And he loved the way her arms around his neck calmed him. When their cheeks touched, or their noses, it felt like jolts of electricity. All these things, Jesse believed, were both proper and normal. The concept of complete sexual intimacy, on the other hand, was so absolutely removed from his conscious thoughts that he didn't even bother to waste time considering ways to avoid it. Unfortunately, like most adolescents, and nearly all adolescent boys, he was blissfully unaware of the fact that once the match was 'put to the fuse' it was a very brief time until the explosion.

For her part, Leslie faced a deeper dilemma, and a heavier responsibility. For over a year, she had been paying attention to how her body reacted to various stimuli and recognized that she had run up against a brick wall. It was not that Jesse's kisses didn't make her feel wonderful, they _always_ did. But kissing and holding hands and hugging had been the extent of their physical interaction, until the party at the Keane's house in late May. There, for the first time, Leslie began to understand how much of a physical reaction she could bring forth from her boyfriend. Jesse's embarrassed turn-away after some kisses had probably stunned her as much as him. And when she thought back on other times when she and Jesse had been necking or hugging for extended periods, she began to recall the odd shifts in position he initiated; now she understood why. She smiled to herself. There were still many things she didn't comprehend about boy-girl relationship, but discovering part of the secret of this one was oddly satisfying.

Fortunately, the deep friendship the two adolescents shared gave Leslie enough respect for Jesse's feelings that she never really considered intentionally making that happen to him. However, even though she was up to speed on her F.L.E. studies, Leslie still had not come to realize that she did not have to _intentionally_ do _anything_ to or with Jesse to set him off. She would learn that over time.

With her chores finally complete Monday evening, Leslie called and proposed to Jesse that they hike up into the mountains Tuesday, and spend some time at the canyon behind their late friend's cabin. She suggested bringing their bathing suits so they could cool off in the pool as the weather had turned hot and humid. Jesse agreed and the stage was set for the most interesting day of their lives.

- - - - - - - - - - -

On Tuesday morning, deep inside both adolescents, there was a vague realization that they were setting off for far more than a simple hike. There was a playful atmosphere with their every step, a tingling when they held hands, a deeper blush, a quicker step, and an all-around sense of discovery. Little conversation passed between the two, and this was highly unusual. But many long looks and warm smiles seemed to communicate the desire for an intimacy in more than just mind and spirit.

Both found that by the time they had reached the abandoned cabin their breathing and heart rates were elevated more than would normally be expected. When they reached the head of the canyon, both began to realize that it was the other, not the hike, which was bringing on the excitement. They were alone, probably for miles, and both intensely interested in exploring more than the terrain. These suspicions were confirmed in Jesse when he set his backpack down and stood back up to find Leslie's red face inches from his. In a second she was kissing him, and he was returning them eagerly.

A few minutes later, and not knowing exactly how it happened, Jesse found himself on his back and his girlfriend lying atop him, kissing his mouth even more fervently. He believed, at first, that he could not possibly respond as intensely as she could, but he did. He felt a wave of guilt and confusion over being so expressive on Mr. Boone's land, but it seemed to make him want to kiss Leslie more, and he recalled what his father had once told him about strong emotions flaring into passion. He instantly knew that was what was happening.

Rolling to his side, so Leslie was next to him, Jesse felt his heart beating wildly and his breathing quickening. There was something uncommonly intense about Leslie's actions, and he had never felt it before.

_Is she losing control?_

_Am I?_

The conflicting and confusing thoughts passing through Jesse's mind were being rapidly pushed aside by his own plunge into the stimulating world of Leslie Burke and Jesse Aarons, alone, together. The images whirling around in his head were both unnerving and intriguing, and emboldened by the wild desire to satisfy his own appetite, for the first time in his life, Jesse Aarons let himself go. It wasn't so much a conscious decision as a concession to curiosity; an abandonment to arousal.

Unsure of where to begin, he pulled his flushed and wide-eyed girlfriend closer. The feel of her body against his was electrifying. Leslie wrapped one leg around him and helped strengthen the physical bond they were building. Gently brushing aside the golden hair that was partially hiding her face, he saw the same curiosity, the same interest, the same passion in Leslie's face as he felt in his chest.

Their kips met again, but lightly this time, as if testing a cup of hot tea. Jesse could taste the strawberry lip balm Leslie always wore. And just as clumsily as he had the first time he kissed her, he opened his mouth a little wider and touched her lips with his tongue, briefly tasting them.

When Leslie's eyes shot open in astonishment, Jesse pulled back, worried he'd done something too bold.

"Sorry…I…I just…"

"_No, Jess_," Leslie whispered passionately, "I _liked_ it. It sort of made me shiver."

Jesse nodded in agreement, though it was doing much more to him than making him shiver. He did it again, barely touching her, and could feel Leslie's lips form a smile.

"Jess?"

"Hmm?"

"I really do like it."

Noticing his hands shaking, Jesse latched them more tightly on Leslie's back and neck, moving her in closer so he wouldn't have to lean so much for the next kiss. That kiss unfolded like no other. Both kids' parted lips met, teeth tapped, and then the tip of each tongue. It was just a glancing touch, but it was so unlike anything either had expected that they sprang apart again, Leslie, wide-eyed, her wet lips glistening in the sun. Jesse wondering how something so brief and small could produced such a reaction.

"Wow!" whispered Leslie, her enthusiasm not at all diminished by her hushed voice. "I see why Mom didn't want me to listen to Aunt Joan."

Jesse ignored this and kissed her again, and more boldly.

Leslie giggled. "Jesse Aarons, are you enjoying this?" Her rhetorical question was answered with another kiss. Now it was her turn to eagerly respond.

Time passed with the kids exploring each other like never before, discovering the magic of opening up a new part of their relationship. Both were amazed by the myriad of sensations their lips and tongues could evoke, and slipping into the fog of sexual arousal – a first for both. They had suddenly come face-to-face with the question both had considered recently: _What happens next?_ Leslie had a vague idea of what she wanted from Jesse, and she tried to maneuver her body back on top of his where she could experience the warmth of his chest pressed against hers. Pushing herself up on one arm and leg, while trying to kiss was awkward, but she was able, after a couple aborted attempts, to find a comfortable position.

Then she noticed a subtle change in Jesse, and felt something she knew she should have been more careful about.

Jesse had been able to write-off his interest in their more intimate kissing, and him touching his girlfriend in different places, to typical adolescent curiosity, but it was now no longer a matter of curiosity. The physical closeness of their bodies and the uncontrollable _whatever it was_ building inside him seemed to be taking over his actions and he found that his hands were no longer content to touch Leslie's face, neck, and back. He slipped one hand under the bottom of her tank-top and felt the soft skin of her lower back made damp by their vigorous hike, and he heard her inhale sharply when his finger circled a spot directly over her spine, along the top edge of her shorts.

Then, when Leslie moved on top of him, he found his desire to touch more than her back was almost mind numbing. Jesse's hand moved to her waist, just below her ribs, then inwards to her stomach, and then upward. Based on her squirming, Jesse wondered if his hands were tickling. He gently separated their bodies to have easier access to the front of Leslie's body.

But Leslie _wasn't_ laughing. When she felt Jess's hand on her bare stomach, she stopped breathing for a few seconds and felt another shiver wrack her upper body. "Jess…?" she said quietly, though more from the thrill of what he was doing than concern, but Jesse kept kissing her face and his hand kept moving between them. She was pretty sure she knew its destination, but as the hand inched up, an image of Gary Fulcher came to her mind, and what he had been doing that had made her attack him.

_Would Jess…? Because __of me…? Because of what we're doing?_

The distraction generated by this thought was met head-on by the shock of feeling Jesse's hand brush against her breast. Leslie gasped aloud from a combination of shock and the intense sensation his touch brought out. It was not at all unpleasant, quite the opposite, but the warning alarms were already sounding and she knew what she had to do. Leslie rolled over to see a dazed look on Jesse's face, his hand that had seconds ago been touching her so intimately was drawn back; its owner shifted his gaze from her face.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod…Les, I'm…I'm sorry. I can't believe I did that."

Predictably, Jesse started hyperventilating and it took Leslie a minute to convince her boyfriend that everything was ok, though she wondered if it was possible to be convincing when she herself was not so certain.

"Jess, _Jess, shhh_, really, it's ok, we just got carried away. It wasn't just you…"

Before her eyes, Leslie watched as Jesse began to shrink back into the shell he'd grown out of years before, and she mentally kicked herself for letting things get so carried away.

"Jess, _stop that_. Look at me. You did _nothing_ wrong…"

"_Yes, I did!_ I'm sorry. Are you ok, Les?"

She nodded shakily. Then Jesse, looking relieved, began to disentangle himself. When free, he jumped up and started to turn away, embarrassed seeing that his uncontrollable reaction to their intimacy was plainly visible to Leslie.

Leslie herself automatically looked away. She had felt him earlier against her leg, but forgotten about it when Jesse's hand started touching her. She tried to ease his discomfiture. "Oh, come on, Jess, I took F.L.E.'s too, that's normal."

"Yeah? Easy for you to say," Jesse responded, leaning over, hands on his knees, and still a little panicky. "Girls can hide it a lot better than guys."

Leslie had to smile at the truth of the statement.

"Ok, just wait until it's… I mean, come back when you're ready."

Leslie fumbled words put Jesse at ease a little quicker and a couple minutes later, having tucked his shirt back in and run his hands through his hair, Jesse returned and sat with Leslie, though a little further away than she liked. When he stubbornly refused to move closer, Leslie scooted over, put her arms around his neck, and gently pulled him to her shoulder. The heat from his flushed-red face was unusually warm and gave Leslie a deeper sense of affection for her best friend.

"Jess, it was ok. I don't want you to get all grumpy because you thought you were sinning or taking advantage of me. I'm serious: this wasn't your fault. I…I think I've felt it building for a long time, at least inside me. By the way, you're a great kisser, do you know that?"

Jesse shook his head.

"Jess, _look up at me, Jess!_ I had a great time."

"But I…._touched_ you!"

"I noticed. Do you hear me complaining?"

Jesse didn't seem to appreciate Leslie's dry humor at first, but a small smile eventually returned to his face.

"C'mon, Jess. We'll be more careful not to get carried away, ok?" Leslie hugged him. "Look at it this way, you got a late birthday present."

Jesse gave Leslie a _who are you kidding?_ look, but seemed to be calm enough to talk to logically again.

"I think we need to be getting home now," he announced abruptly. "Seriously, Les. I don't know if my seeing you in that bathing suit right now would be a good idea."

"Ok, Jess, but don't you think we need to talk about what happened some more?"

"Well…yeah. I mean…ok, I don't know, it just scared me."

"Me, too, but I'm not going to let it make me miserable. It's not like it will happen every time we kiss, right?"

"I, um, I guess not."

"So there," Leslie proclaimed.

"Wait!"

"Now what?" asked Leslie a little impatiently.

"I think we should test that."

"Huh? Test what?"

Smiling deviously, Jesse touched his lips and they both leaned over and kissed as they had just discovered how to do so sensuously an hour earlier.

"God that's amazing!" Leslie only nodded in reply. When they broke farther apart, Jesse felt better seeing Leslie more affected by the kiss.

"Ok, you're right, Jess," Leslie breathed heavily. "Let's agree to be more careful." Putting a hand to the side of his face, Leslie cupped his cheek and had to fight off a craving to take her boyfriend's hand and place it back on her chest. _Not_ doing so left an ache inside her she had never felt before.

Leslie recalled Jesse's words from their days on the Mediterranean nearly two years earlier, and he was right_…this can get us into trouble! _

When Leslie returned home, she ducked into the kitchen and said hello to her mother. Judy, covered with the remnants of Jimmy's oatmeal lunch, smiled and asked how her day went with Jesse, silently noticing that they were home a lot sooner than she expected. Leslie had never quite figured out how her mother was able to do it, but in spite of the casual _we had a great time_ response, Leslie knew her mother knew. The question was, _How much?_

"Come in, Les. Let's talk."

"Mom, I really need to shower and, uh, get going on my homework…"

"Too bad," she said, a little more sternly. "Sit! And in case you didn't notice, school ended four days ago."

Leslie groaned and sat.

"Is there something we need to talk about?"

"No…not really," Leslie lied. Turning away, she saw Jimmy watching her as if he knew and wanted to hear every juicy detail. She sighed. "Well, just a little."

"Les, you really don't have to tell me anything if it makes you uncomfortable. But when you came in your eyes were as big as billiard balls and you were blushing down to your knees."

"That obvious, huh?"

Judy smiled and nodded.

"Les, you're my daughter, you're fourteen and a half, and you and your boyfriend are pretty much madly in love. When I think back to myself…"

"_Mother! I'm not you. We've had this discussion and I wouldn't do that with Jess._"

Jimmy threw more oatmeal into the air and blurted out, "_Wiff Jeh'!_"

Judy held her daughter's gaze and clearly saw that what she should have said was, _I wouldn't _intentionally_ do that with Jess_, or, _I wouldn't _plan_ to do that with Jess_.

"You're right, Les, you are _not_ me, I wasn't implying that. I was trying to say that you're at an age where your body can easily help you lose control. It's that other side of PMS we talked about. And believe me; if Jess is anything like your father, he has a lot less control than you do." By the look on her daughter's face, Judy knew she had hit pretty close to home. But the real question was, how close to _home_ did _Jesse_ get?

"Sweetheart, what happened?"

Leslie told her about their oral exploration, and then the other part. Judy Burke was quite proud that she was able to listen dispassionately to her daughter's first foray into the fringes of sexual activity. When finished, her mother touched her cheek.

"Was this the first time this happened?" Leslie nodded. Judy smiled. "Did Jess…ah, survive?"

Leslie laughed at the choice of words. "Yes, a little embarrassed because of…of, you know…a guy's reaction."

"Not unexpected, considering what he was doing. Leslie, is that were the touching ended?"

"_Yes!_ I think Jesse would have been horrified if…I mean, he was so embarrassed as it was."

Judy thought that comment over for a minute and asked for clarification. "Les, Jesse didn't, _ahem_, have an…_accident_, did he?"

"_Huh? OH!_ No, I think I would have noticed that."

"Ok, because it's pretty easy at his age. Just be careful how you, ah, _position_ yourself if things get hot and heavy again."

"Don't worry, Mom, I promise, that's never going to happen again."

Judy laughed aloud and assured her daughter that it would, and offered some strategies for keeping things from progressing any further.

"Mom, I have another question," Leslie said quietly, looking down, obviously concerned about something. "Does what we did always feel that good?"

"Les, I think that's enough talk about sex tonight," Judy said, smiling. Besides, Jimmy was now bored with the conversation and threatening further food mayhem. But there was still another very important thing she needed to say. Taking her daughter's hands, Judy spoke calmly, and directly. "Les, I won't ask any more questions about you and Jess, but I'll always be here for you. I think you know Bill and I believe you're too young to be active that way, but I also know things are going to happen. So does Mary Aarons; we've talked about it a lot." Leslie's face looked horror-struck. "Honey, we know you two love each other, but you're still children, really, so we need to agree on some limits since you've pretty much obliterated the last one's we set."

"Sorry."

As Judy and Leslie talked about the new set of guidelines, she saw her daughter becoming more and more uncomfortable so she ended it for the time being with one final, shocking statement.

"Les, I'm going to leave some contraceptives in the bottom drawer of your bathroom vanity, and I promise not to look to see if they're being used. Ok."

Stunned, almost as much by her mother's comment as Jesse's boldness earlier, all Leslie could manage to do was nod.

"That doesn't mean I approve of sex at your age, I don't, or that I want you to look for opportunities, understood?"

Leslie shook her head in a rapid, jerking motion. And she felt a little sick to her stomach.

"Mom, I don't want that…them. I don't _need_ them."

"Well, they're not so much for you to use as for Jess…"

"_MOM!_"

"…only if needed, Les."

"But…but Jess says the Church says they're illegal!"

Judy frowned at being reminded of one of the key points of contention between her and the Catholic Church. "Yes they do consider it sinful, that's another thing for you to think about. What are their alternatives to birth control?"

"Abstinence and natural family planning."

"Ok, then, there's your choice," Judy said matter-of-factly, and immensely curious how her daughter would respond.

"Abstinence it is," Leslie said decidedly, and with no hesitation. Her conviction and naiveté both surprised and alarmed her mother.

"Ok, go shower and do your…_homework_, I have to finish dinner. Is Jess coming over?"

_I'm not sure I could face him!_

"No, he's going into town with his father."

Leslie decided then and there to remove anything from the bathroom that looked remotely like contraceptives, and hide them in her room. But she didn't leave, yet.

"Mom, I have one more quick question."

Judy sat back down and waited, wondering if she was about to hear more details from Leslie's adventures that afternoon. She didn't.

"When did you know you wanted to spend your life with Dad? You know, get married?"

"_Oh_, uh…" Judy, caught completely by surprise, stalled for time while she thought back so many years. To her credit, she answered the question truthfully.

"When I was about your age…but remember what I was going through..."

The reason didn't matter a jot to Leslie, her question had been answered.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Leslie walked to the Aarons house that evening shortly after seeing Jesse return home, and asked to speak to him. Mr. Aarons said he was in his room and she could go up, but Leslie politely asked that he be called down. He nodded and did so. When Jesse came down the stairs and saw Leslie he hesitated for just a second; Jack Aarons saw it, though he said nothing at the time.

"Hey! What's up?"

"Wanna go for a walk?"

Jesse nodded and jogged across the room, taking Leslie's hand as they went outside. Heading towards her house, Leslie started the conversation after a half-minute of awkward silence.

"Jess, are you ok with what happened today?"

_NO!_ He just shrugged.

"We're too young for this, Jess, so let's not get in the habit of you…me…uh, us…you know. Is that ok?"

Jesse had to laugh. Leslie was almost never tongue-tied, as she was now. "You mean I can't feel you up every time we're alone?"

Leslie slapped his arm, but then stopped and said honestly, "Neither of us is ready, Jess, I'm sorry I let you get that far."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Ok." Then he thought of something. "Um, how about kissing…like today?" he asked, arching his eyebrows suggestively.

Leslie considered that for a few seconds. "Can't say I'm ready to give that up. But promise me, we'll be careful, both of us, right?"

"Ok, I promise," answered Jesse, hugging Leslie, but also releasing her after only a few seconds. The reminder of how he was so consistently and easily aroused by her troubled his thoughts.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Late that same evening, Judy Burke showered and climbed in bed. Bill was pounding away on his laptop and barely acknowledged his wife. This was one of his character flaws that annoyed her excessively. But his uncanny ability to tune out everything he didn't want to hear usually led to interesting conversations.

"Bill?"

"Hmm?"

"Our daughter is sexually active now."

"Ok."

"Her and Jess have been for a while."

"Yeah…I know."

"I gave her a box of your condoms."

"Good idea, Jude."

"But I didn't need to."

"Yeah."

"Les is pregnant."

"Ok."

"So am I."

"Mm-hm."

"So is Mary Aarons."

"Good plan."

"And Ellie and Brenda."

"Sounds good to me."

"_Want to have sex?_"

Bill instantly looked up, smiling wickedly. "When have I ever said 'no' to that?"

"Never, that I can remember," Judy replied dryly. "But you'll have to put your computer down."

"Yeah…right, just a sec…let me finish this thought…"

Five minutes later, Judy groaned and started over, this time a bit more vicious in her comments.

"Billy?"

"Hm?"

"I'm bi-sexual."

"Ok."

"And P.T.'s beginning to turn me on."

"Cool."

"And I'm going to punch your jewels if you don't start screwing me."

"Sure."

"_BILL!_"

"Hm…what, Jude?"

Judy seriously considered acting upon her threat, but instead took her nightgown off, straddled Bill's lower legs and slammed the laptop shut on his hands, finally gaining her husband's undivided attention.

"Hi. My name if Judy Burke. I'm your wife. I want you to make love to me. _NOW!_"

"_Ok, ok! _Why didn't you say so?"

Feeling a little deflated, Judy fell over sideways and wondered why she had married a writer.


	2. Chapter 46: The Survey

**A Life Rescued  
****Part 5**  
**Chapter 46 – The Survey**  
(Please read and review, it makes us better writers.)

_Disclaimer: The world of Terabithia belongs to Katherine Paterson and her publishers.  
I'm just playing around in it for a while. No profit was, or will be received from this story._

_The survey in this chapter was adapted from  
__Alice in __the __Know by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor._

**This chapter is rated **_**MATURE**_** for adult oriented dialog  
****And language, and scenes of a sexual nature.  
****Please do not read if you think you might be offended.**

Within the first two months of ninth grade, Jesse Aarons had formulated a number of hypotheses about high school, and had good evidence to support all of them.

First was the fact that the class work was pathetically easy and the only way to get a real education would be to take all Advanced Placement courses. He shrewdly realized that his ignorance of this was due to his older sisters and their unending complaints about how _difficult_ high school was. Jesse confirmed this with both Ellie and Brenda, but only after promising he would never reveal the deception to their mother and father.

The second fact dealt with the students who transitioned from middle school to high school. Over the course of the summer, nearly all had degenerated from reasonably tolerable tweens into some sort of uncivilized adolescent/adult hybrid. They lost their manners, what few they had, and skillfully demonstrated that griping about being ill-treated and over-worked was the most righteous activity ever invented.

Next was the role of student government at Lark Creek High. As freshmen class president, a role he still had difficulty believing he'd been railroaded into, let alone won, Jesse found he had nothing to do. But he was relieved to see that all the other class presidents were experiencing the same sense of futility. It did not bode well, however, that the four class leaders were not leading, he reasoned.

Finally, there was the student body in general, and the male half in particular.

With the exception of nice weather days when you could eat outside, Jesse, Leslie, and whichever friends sat with them at lunch were gaining new views into their fellow students' lives, mostly vulgar and tactless ones. Based on what they heard, Jesse, Tom, and Mikey concluded, one day before any of the girls arrived, that the only things nearly all males in high school talked about were breasts, football, and breasts - not always in that order. (Outside of the football season the dialogue of choice fluctuated between types of outercourse, where to have it, and various forms of self-gratification.)

"Well," Tom sputtered defensively when he saw disapproval on Jesse's face, "that _is_ what guys talk about. I wonder what girls talk about?" he said with a smile and looking to Mikey, knowing Jesse would never say anything. Their friend was always talking to the twins in whispers, and with a red face.

"Breasts…" he said knowingly, looking at Tom.

"Too big or too small?"

He thought for a couple seconds. "Yes."

They laughed, even Jesse.

"Ok, what else?" Tom prodded.

"Birth control, their period, and...Guys' asses."

Jesse choked. "_WHAT?!_"

"Seriously, Jess," Mikey went on to explain impassionedly, "Lisa and Carol sit around and comment on which guys' asses look cute. You know, kind of like how we rate girls' tits."

Jesse _did_ know about that, still, he buried if face in his hands for a couple seconds, groaned audibly, and wondered if _his_ ass had been rated. "_I don't want to know!_" he warned, with splayed fingers and the palms of his hands held up: Mikey was obviously about to share precisely that information. Tom chuckled until they were surprised by the voices of their female friends.

"What have you three been talking about, Mr. President?" Makayla asked, as she, Leslie, and Barbara sat.

Flustered, hoping none of the previous conversation had been heard, Jesse mumbled vaguely that they had been discussing, "Um, just, um, stuff."

"'_Um, stuff_'? That sounds interesting."

Leslie and Barbara snickered; both knew 'stuff' was Jesse's go-to phrase when he didn't want to talk about what he _had_ been talking about. Then his girlfriend leaned over and whispered, "Don't you want to know what _I_ think of your ass?"

Jesse choked again.

Mercifully, the remainder of lunch passed quietly and most of the ninth graders left with a good fifteen minutes remaining before fifth period began. Makayla lingered behind, chatting with Leslie while the blonde teen ate her celery and peanut butter; Jesse's attention faded in and out, along with his higher mental functions, due to a lack of sleep the night before. When the fifth period bell rang, he barely noticed. Makayla left whistling, _Hail to the Chief_,

but Leslie turned, put an arm around his neck, and gave him an uncommonly passionate kiss that woke up at least some parts of his body. It was the only time he really liked celery: when he tasted it in Leslie's mouth.

* * *

November brought the start of the second quarter at LCHS, and Gym class changed to Health. And in high school, Health was co-ed. The teacher was named Danni Everest, an attractive, thirtyish woman who was known for her creative teaching techniques and popularity with students and faculty alike. Tom, Mikey, and Billy Eccles all agreed that they would be willing to take _private instructions_ from her, a declaration that drew groans and thrown napkins from their female classmates.

Two periods were merged for Health, and for the first time ever, Jesse, Leslie, Mikey, Lisa, Carol, and Tom shared a class together, though some others in the room were not as pleased about the arrangement. The six friends sat together and tended to be distracting with their whispered comments and note-passing. Billy Eccles and Makayla were also in the class but had enough sense to remain out of earshot of their new friends.

Following the usual admonishments for quiet, and introductions from Mrs. Everest, the first class began.

"The first five weeks of this quarter, we will be studying common situations you experience in life, and how to deal with them. Some of this is lecture, but most will be a series of projects you will work on individually or in pairs. You will randomly select an assignment from a hat," she pointed at two old stage prop top hats, one for pairs and one for individuals. "Each has a real-life situation you need to work through, and then prepare a written and oral report to share with the class. When I call your name – and they will be alphabetical, please come up and get your assignment."

Jesse glanced back at Leslie and smiled: The A's and B's were together.

"Aarons and Burke, one of you come up." Leslie was already on her way and drew a folded sheet of paper from the hat for pairs. "What's the assignment, Ms. Burke?"

Leslie blushed a little before looking up to Jesse and the class. "You just graduated from high school and decided to get married against your parents' wishes. You have ten thousand dollars a rich uncle gave you to start your life..."

"That's enough, thank you. Every assignment has a situation or problem you need to work through. You have to stay within the parameters given on the assignment sheet. Ms. Burke and Mr. Aarons will have to get married, find an apartment, and maybe go on a honeymoon, all with a tight budget. Let's look at the next pair..."

The next pair was chosen; these two had to deal with taking care of an elderly grandparent.

Then two individuals were called, one was to plan her own funeral and write a will, the other had to arrange a move to another city on short notice and a shoestring budget.

Then Billy Eccles and Makayla Flynn were called and Jesse began to think Mrs. Everest knew more about the class dynamics and history than she had let on. Billy and Makayla had gone out briefly in middle school and broken up over the summer, but were still friends. Their assignment was to buy a car and insurance for both of them, and they each had a few points on their driving record.

The most exciting part of the class was when Mikey Sellers and _Lisa_ Silliard were paired-up to prepare for an unexpected pregnancy. Mikey had been dating Lisa's twin, Carol, for about a year and most of the class knew it. Carol was then chosen to bail a friend out of jail. Twice. The obvious issue there would be that the second time would be much more difficult.

There were some complaints about assignments, but Mrs. Everest refused to allow trades, a particularly thoughtless rule, Carol Silliard repeatedly announced to anyone who listened, until Mrs. Everest overheard her and reminded everyone that, "You might never experience the situation you've chosen, but everyone here _will_ have to deal with many of these things. Research the issue and be prepared to present a preliminary report to me the first week of December."

After class, Jesse and Leslie went separate ways but met again at lunch. Both found them self a little embarrassed by the assignment, but also very curious as to how the other felt. They tried to find a place away from their friends to talk, but it didn't work so they arranged to get together that evening.

At seven o'clock, Leslie was at her computer when Jesse rapped on her bedroom door. She had been expecting him and waved him in.

"Leave the door open, Jess, we don't want any trouble," she giggled. He did as was told and flopped down on her bed.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Finishing up emails from all my admirers," she laughed.

Jesse turned on his side to watch Leslie and found his face next to a bra and a green and white cardboard box. It took him a few seconds to figure out what the container held: Light Days. He discreetly set it on the floor and picked up the undergarment.

"Hey, what should I do with this, Les?"

Turning, Leslie smiled and held out her hand. "It's too small for me now…think May would like it?" she asked mischievously.

Jesse cringed as he handed her the bra. "Um, _you_ can ask her."

Leslie tossed the item in the general direction of a clothes hamper and returned to the computer. "Just a couple more, Jess… Hmmm, this looks _interesting_. Here's an email from The Piper Polling Company of Pennsylvania," she explained. "It says, 'Click here to take a brief survey and receive a confidential analysis of your passion for life and love.'"

Jesse groaned. "Don't you have your email filtering turned on? Those things are a pile of crap."

"Party-pooper. Well _I'm_ going to do it anyway. Maybe it will tell me why I'm so ignored by my boyfriend." She turned and stuck out her tongue.

"Ignored, huh? Tell you what. Let me hear the questions and_ your answers_ and I promise not to ignore you the rest of the evening."

Leslie considered the offer. "A week."

"Ok, the rest of the week."

"Deal! This should be interesting," Leslie said as she clicked on the BEGIN button.

The screen went blank for a moment before the instruction panel appeared. It contained the usual poll disclaimers ending with an admonition to answer truthfully if you want to receive an honest evaluation. Leslie read it all aloud to Jesse, ignoring his warning, "_Hmmm,_" at the last bit of instruction. She clicked on NEXT and the first questions appeared asking for age, sex, and a couple other innocuous items.

When Leslie clicked NEXT again, the real questions began.

"Here's the first question: 'Do you have a boyfriend?' My options are: 'Yes, No,' and 'Working on it.' I said yes…thought you might need to hear that."

Jesse groaned, but got off the bed and pulled a chair up behind Leslie.

"Ok, question number 2: 'How often do you and your boyfriend kiss?' _Ewww, scandalous!_ The options are: 'Seldom, Sometimes, Frequently,' and 'All the time.' Hmmm…What do you think, Jess?"

"I think it's all a _waste_ of time, _but_…frequently is probably accurate. Agree?"

"Sure. Next, question 3: 'Have you ever gone…skinny-dipping with him?' _Ahem._ 'Yes, No,' and 'Might be fun.'

Leslie clicked an answer.

"Hey! You said you'd tell me your answers, Les!" Jesse protested, trying to look over her shoulder. When Leslie glanced behind herself, she saw him smiling.

"Not such a dumb poll after all, is it? _I_ said_,_ it might be fun."

Jesse continued to smile, especially seeing Leslie's neck turning pink. "What's the next one?" he asked eagerly.

"It says, 'Have you ever had a sexy dream about your boyfriend?' How do they know I have a boyfriend? This must be bogus!"

"Les, they know you have a boyfriend because you told them you have one. First question." Jesse chuckled to himself; Leslie almost never missed something like that.

_Getting flustered, Les?_

"Let's hear what the answers are."

"'Never. Now and then, Can't remember one,' and 'Can't forget them.'" Jesse burst out in laughter. "Ok, _you_ take the survey next," Leslie snapped, but Jesse did even better.

"Sure, in fact, I'll take it with you…substituting the proper gender, of course."

Leslie seemed pleased with this and scrolled back to the top so Jesse could see the first few questions again.

"Um… One is yes, two is frequently, and three is might be fun. There. Feel better?" He kissed the top of Leslie's head and she nodded.

"So…? What's your answer for number four?"

Sighing, he said, "Can't forget them."

"Really?" Leslie exclaimed in surprise, but then recalled Jesse's tremendous gift of memory and gave him a suggestive smile that made the boy blush. "I'd have to say 'now and then' myself. Ok, five...'Have you ever been touched intimately? Yes' or 'No.' Does last June count?"

Jesse shrugged. "I guess...barely."

"Ok, that's a yes for me. How about you?"

"_What?!_ You should know."

"Jesse, I haven't really touched you…_Oh!_ You mean _there_? I don't think that counts, I just, you know, felt it on my leg."

"Ok, then no."

_Right...maybe we can change that... _

They looked at number six. Jesse coughed and Leslie's eyes opened wide. "_Wow!_ Ok, forward… 'Have you ever undressed in front of your boyfriend? Yes' or 'No.' That's 'girlfriend' for you, Jess," she informed him.

Both said "No" at the same time, giggling, and wondering why there wasn't a "Not yet" option.

Jesse leaned over and rested his arms on Leslie's shoulders awaiting the next question.

"'Have you ever had sex? Yes, No, Can't remember.' Ugh, that last one's an unappealing thought. No for me and you."

"Wait," Jesse said, snickering.

"Why? Want to change your answer?" Leslie asked warningly.

"No, I wanted to do this." He leaned over and gave his girlfriend a kiss.

"Uh-huh, I bet you were going to make some chauvinistic joke, weren't you?"

"No…well, I was just wondering how they would describe what sex _is_…exactly."

Leslie grinned and did her Bill Clinton impersonation: "'_I guess it depends on what your definition of is is.'_ Ok, Aarons, you got yourself out of that one, too. You're getting devious, you know that?"

"_Me?_"

"Yeah, you," Leslie giggled, poking him in the side. "Ok, what's the next one? 'Have you ever…' Oh my! Well, it did say passion for life and love. Here goes. 'Have you ever given your boyfriend head? Yes' or 'No.'" Leslie turned and looked at Jesse. "Isn't that when the girl gives the guy a…"

"Yes! Exactly."

Both blushed even more. Leslie picked up a notebook and fanned herself.

"Hey, how do you know about that sort of stuff?"

"Two words: Tom. Jacobs."

Leslie rolled her eyes. "Makes sense. I'll put down no for myself and assume you didn't take advantage of me when I was drugged-up." Jesse didn't say anything, but Leslie could feel the heat from his arms and face on her neck and head. "_Whew! _Ok, here's the next question; I think there's only one more after this," Leslie sensed Jesse stand up, but he kept his hands on her shoulders. "'How many times a week…' _HOLY SHIT!_"

A voice from down the stairs admonished the teen to control her language.

"Just read it, Les," Jesse told her, immensely curious about what could rattle her so.

Leslie did, as quickly as she could, without slurring the words and having to repeat it. "'How many times a week do you masturbate? Never, once, a few times, every day.'"

"Whose idea was this?" Jesse asked rhetorically. But there was something odd in his tone and Leslie turned around.

"Both of ours. Want to finish?"

Jesse swallowed hard and nodded. "As long as you're honest."

"You, too."

"I promise. What's your answer, Les?"

"You go first."

"No way – I went first last time."

Leslie pouted and turned back to the laptop. She clicked the third choice, _c_. Jesse noticed her neck was becoming crimson.

"Your turn," she said, almost inaudibly.

There was a _very_ long pause, but Leslie didn't push him. Finally he told her.

"Um...I'm not sure, maybe between _b _and_ c_."

"_REALLY?!_" Leslie almost shouted; Jesse shushed her. "I never would have thought! Jesse Aarons - especially with that Catholic background."

"I go to confession a lot," he noted sourly.

The funny thing was, Jesse realized, it had been _much_ easier admitting something that personal to Leslie than to the priest. He wondered why.

Leslie turned and gave him a quizzical look. "Jess, I'm just curious…why did you say you weren't sure…how many times? I mean, you don't have to answer…sorry." She turned back to the computer.

"No, it's ok, Les. I…I just, um, _started_, um, did it the first time only a few months ago."

"Oh, I see…"

"Um… What about you?"

Leslie appeared shy and again turned back to Jesse, and her face was even darker red. "I guess…a couple years."

The room had become so quiet the fan on the laptop sounded loud.

"Does that make you an expert?" he quipped, trying to ease Leslie's embarrassment.

She giggled quietly. "A _master_ masturbator?"

"Tom probably gets that title," Jesse laughed.

"I don't know, Jess. You'd be surprised at the number of girls who _do it_."

"Have…_sex_?"

"No! Masturbate…regularly."

"_How would you know? Do you talk about it with each other?_" a panicked Jesse asked, clearly horrified.

"Some do. I've never been that open, even with Gracie. You're the only person I, uh, ever told this to, though Mom and I have talked about it some. She thinks it's a good way to keep from getting too horny."

Jesse stared, open-mouthed. "Like fighting fire with fire? No wonder she had problems with the Catholic Church."

"Yes, that _is_ one issue."

The two friends sat quietly, each lost in thought, but not really dwelling on their most recent topic; rather, how they felt about sharing personal beliefs. And both knew this had been another step in building a loving relationship. After a few minutes, they looked at each other, held hands, and gave what could best be described a content and affectionate smile. Then Leslie sighed. "Thank you, Jess. I love you."

"Me, too. But, um, maybe we should finish this and get back to work?"

"Yeah, here's the last question: 'Which one of these would you...' Oh, _Jeez!_ 'Which of these would you find most interesting? Group sex, _Anal_ sex, Oral sex, Sex with a dog.' I think I'm going to be _sick_... and I'm crossing out _b_ and _d_. You go first this time, Jess."

"I can't," Jesse pleaded.

"Why not?"

"You crossed out both my choices!"

"_Ahhh!_" Leslie squealed, flapping her hands, then jumping up and turning to see Jesse laughing. "I _hate_ you, Aarons! That is _SO,_ _SO NASTY!_ What's your _real_ answer?" she demanded.

_Hmm, Les…and Grace...and Kayla...and the twins?_ "Either _a_ or _c_. _c_, I guess; yeah, _c_."

_Glad to hear that_, Leslie thought, not really considering what the answer was, only what it was _not_. Neither did she realize how close the choice between _a_ and _c_ was for him.

"We're agreed on that one, thank God; _c_ would be my choice, too, assuming prior experience with _normal_ sex. I wonder why there wasn't a choice for no sex," she giggled, and rambled on as she did when nervous. "I guess no one would find that interesting. Ok, it says 'click here' to submit and find out what my passion for life and love is. I'm so excited," she said with some degree of _false_ excitement. "Ok…."

Just then, Leslie's cell phone rang: She dashed to her nightstand to retrieve it.

"It's Grace or Tom," she said, looking at the caller ID. "Hello? Hi Gracie, what's up?... Uh, yes I did…how'd you know that?...Yes...no, not yet, why?"

Jesse, reviewing the questions and answers to the survey, heard a loud gasp and looked around to see Leslie's face lose nearly all its color. She stuttered through a quick goodbye and turned.

"_Jess! Don't – touch – the computer_. Tom and a bunch of others got the same email. When they hit submit, their answers were sent out to everyone on the school emergency contact distribution list." Leslie flopped back on her bed. "Oh. My. God. I am going to _kill_ the person who started this. I don't mind sharing that with you, but… _And how do we get rid of it?_" she cried in a panic, pointing an accusing finger at the offending machine. "Can I just shut down the computer?"

Jesse turned his attention to the laptop. "Let me check." After a minute, he found that selecting the same answer twice appeared to erase the selection. Next, he disconnected the Ethernet cable and closed the internet browser. To be completely safe, he restarted the browser and cleared the cache.

"That should do it…I hope. Just be sure to delete that email and mark the sender as Junk so you won't get it again."

Leslie stood and hugged Jesse, thanking him, then returned to her computer to do as he said. But when she maximized her email application, they both saw that her inbox was flooded with eighty-seven new messages, most giving the survey results of a different student at the school, the last few were warnings not to take the survey. They looked at each other. "Should we peek?" Leslie asked impishly, arching her eyebrows.

Jesse smiled back. "Maybe one or two. See any email addresses you recognize? But don't pick Tom's, we can probably guess his answers."

Both adolescents dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"That's Mikey's, maybe...no, look here, that's Fulcher's. I wonder what the 'n' is for."

"Nitwit, nincompoop, numbskull, nasty, nuts..."

Laughing, Leslie agreed. "Want to look?"

"Sure, it might be good for blackmail."

Leslie opened the email and they scanned the answers.

"That was a waste, he doesn't even jerk-off," Jesse complained.

Leslie slapped his arm playfully and told him not to be crude. "Besides, he only _says_ he doesn't; but yeah, it was a waste. Do you see one you want to look at? _Ohmygosh!_ Kayla! That's her email address. How about...?"

"_No._ I might have trouble looking at her if she admitted to…to something nasty."

Snorting out a laugh, Leslie looked further. "Ok...how about…I think this one's Lindsey Bailey, that bitchy girl who was yelling at Lisa the other day."

"Sure."

Opening the response, they found it only slightly more interesting.

"Hey, she's been skinny-dipping. Who's she going out with? Lucky guy, I'm jealous!" Again, the words flowed effortlessly and Jesse hardly realized what he'd said.

"Jess, I'm afraid it's gotten too cold for us to do that until next year," Leslie replied matter-of-factly. Not sure if she was serious, Jesse remained silent. Eventually she asked, "Want to look at some more?"

For a moment he considered it, but shook his head. "No, I don't reckon we should." He saw Leslie's face fall for a second, but then she nodded in agreement.

"You're right."

As she started deleting the messages, Jesse came up from behind again and wrapped his arms around her neck, resting his cheek on her head. "We've never really shared things like this before: you know, deep stuff – personal stuff."

Leslie leaned to the side so Jesse's head would slip next to hers, turned, and kissed his cheek. Then she pulled his arms from around her neck and clamped them to her chest, humming a single, long, content note.

"No, we don't. It was certainly different. I feel...I guess I've _always_ felt I could tell you anything."

"Me, too," he said, almost in a whisper into her ear. "I'm glad."

Against his arms, Jesse could feel that Leslie was wearing nothing under her t-shirt. Her breasts, pressed against his forearms, were soft and foreign, and the experience set his mind awhirl, leaving him a bit dizzy, breathless, and annoyingly, uncontrollably aroused – for the third or forth time that evening. They stayed in that position for a long minute, until Mrs. Burke could be heard bringing Jimmy up for a bath.

"Les?" Jesse whispered urgently, warningly.

Sighing, Leslie said, "I know, I know," and slowly removed the arms around her. Jesse was certain she was intentionally doing it slowly, not that he was complaining. But as his palms ran over her breasts and the distinct texture of two hard nipples, he had to concentrate on _NOT_ closing his hands around them: It was the hardest thing he had ever _not_ done. Leslie made an unintelligible sound just then, and he was…free; however, he needed to immediately return to Leslie's bed with the notebook in his lap in case Mrs. Burke came in the room.

"How's the project going you two?" Judy called from the hallway.

Leslie replied casually, "Great, we've learned a bunch of interesting things." Jesse's mouth dropped open in disbelief and he gave Leslie a horrified look. She just smiled back. "We're about finished for tonight. Jess is hungry, so I'm going to set him loose in the kitchen."

"Ok, see you later, Jess."

"Night, Mrs. Burke, and thank you." He flagged Leslie to give him another minute to calm his body, then they left. On the way out, he stuck his head in the bathroom. "Bye, Jimmy."

Still unable to pronounce some consonants, the boy called out "Ba, ba, Jeff," and went back to playing in the slowly filling tub.

When they were down the steps, Leslie led Jesse to the front hall, not the kitchen.

"What are...?"

"Shush. Kiss me," Leslie instructed, but didn't wait for her boyfriend to start. Throwing herself at him, Jesse felt like he was being devoured, and it was pure bliss. A couple minutes later and he found himself pinning Leslie tightly against the wall and his hands running up and down her sides. Now and then, he felt the softer flesh at the edge of her breasts brush past his thumbs as her shirt was slowly migrating upward. Leslie seemed to gasp with each of these touches, but did nothing to stop him, and he could tell by her enthusiasm that she wished her parents were not home. Yet Jesse did not feel comfortable, though sorely tempted, to take advantage of the situation and Leslie's easily accessible breasts.

Another minute passed, and then, unlike in June, _Jesse_ abruptly pushed himself back a few inches. His reasons now were about the same as Leslie's then. Arms around his neck, and pulling herself up to his ear, she whispered, "You right, Jess, you should leave now."

"What? _Why?_" he asked automatically, though he knew the answer. And besides that, he had just become aware of how obvious his erection must be to his partner. He tried to inconspicuously move the notebook to cover himself, but Leslie was pressed too close to him again.

Then what she said into his ear caused Jesse to forget his embarrassment, and forget to breathe. When he did at last, he told her, "I understand." And did. There was something in Leslie's face that he'd never seen before. It was both alluring and frightening; caged and wild. He gave her a quick kiss and left while he had the strength and she had the willpower.

The walk to his house was slow, quiet, and thoughtful. He also had to stop halfway, cursing his male anatomy, to let himself deflate – again! A task which was made more difficult by some of the things they had spoken about and were flitting in and out of his imagination.

Recalling her honesty that night, Jesse realized that whenever a question about Leslie Burke was answered, two more popped up. And this evening, he again comprehended, had been an important barrier they had breeched; not from the sensory input of his lips, hands, and arms, but because of what they had shared. He was both content and astonished with his openness, and felt closer to Leslie Burke than he ever had before. This time, however, the closeness was deeper than the usual comfort and companionship he experienced when together with his best friend.

He also knew that he was correct to stop their kissing and touching, and she was correct to send him away: During the last minutes in the Burke's front hallway, Armageddon could have been exploding around them and he would not have noticed.

* * *

When he reached his house, Jesse saw Ellie sitting on the porch swing wrapped in a blanket. She immediately waved at him as he ran up to sit with her, accepting a hug. But she didn't let go.

"Something wrong, Ell? _Is Toby ok?_"

"Yeah, we're ok, I just needed to see you."

The statement shouldn't have shocked Jesse, this was the second time she had said that to him recently. But while he was flattered, he couldn't help wonder why the brother whom she had tormented for thirteen years was now her second best friend. _Then again_, he realized,_ that might be the answer_. He moved a little closer and held her tighter. "Sure, Ell. Any time."

A few seconds later, Ellie started to laugh. "Jess?"

"…_Yeah?_"

"I'm pretty liberal, but watch your hands; I'm your sister, not Leslie." Ellie twisted away and Jesse felt his hand pulled out of danger, slipping away from the warmth between Ellie's chest and her left breast. He had thought his hand under her arm.

"_Oh shit_..._sorry, sorry, sorry!_" he squeaked, face instantly darkening. In sliding away, he got a splinter in his butt.

Ellie laughed all the harder as Jesse fumbled to pull the sliver of wood out, but quickly sobered up, explaining her presence. "It's alright, Jess, don't worry… Uh, Toby's last email a few days ago said they would be moving into Iran soon. Maybe today..." She trailed off and Jesse could see tears coming down her cheeks. "Oh, Jess…_I'm so scared!_" she sobbed.

He cautiously moved closer and put his arm around her shoulder this time. After a while, she calmed down and Jesse started talking again.

"Did Dad bring you home?"

"No, I have to be back early tomorrow for class so I borrowed Amy's car."

Amy, Jesse knew, was a friend Ellie had made and who lived in Baxley.

"Dad chewed me out for coming home. 'Gas is too expensive. Blah, blah, blah.' As if I didn't know that! Who paid for it? I did."

"Ell, if you need money, please let me know, I do have _some_ to spare..."

"No, Jess, but thank you. It's not like I do this every week."

"I know. Dad can still be a butt-head at times, can't he?"

Ellie nodded. "At least it's better now. A lot better. Can you imagine what he'd be like if he still had that other job?" Ellie gave a little shiver and took a few deep breaths to calm down more. "So...what were you and Leslie doing? When you got here your face was beet-red." She elbowed him gently, hoping an interesting story from her brother would take her mind off her husband. She got one, too.

Jesse motioned for his sister to follow him and they retreated to his room. When the door shut, he wasn't sure why or how, but the words just spilled out. "She kinda said we were about to have sex…"

With a disbelieving look on her face, Ellie tried to clarify "She _offered you sex?_ _Did you turn her down?_"

"No, not exactly _offered_, I guess, she, um, kinda _threatened_ it." He explained more clearly how both had felt out of control and thought it best that he go home.

"You two have a very _interesting_ relationship," Ellie said dryly as she sat on the end of her brother's bed. "What caused all this? Were you two making out?"

Jesse explained about the survey, including a brief, red-faced recap of the last two questions.

Ellie did a double take. "_Excuse me?_ Oral sex and beating-off? Were you talking about them or practicing?"

"Just talking..._really_."

"That makes sense," Ellie replied after a brief pause. "Jess, some people really get turned-on by talking about that stuff. I'm sure that's what happened with Les." A devilish smile passed over her face and she unconsciously looked in the direction of the Burke's house. "I bet she's finding some relief right now."

"_Ell! Cut it out._"

"Why? Don't you think about these things, Jess? And don't give me that _I'm only fourteen_ look again. Don't you feel..._urges_ when you're with Les?"

"Yeah, _of course_," he answered dolefully, having not forgotten the recent scene in the Burke's foyer.

"Good, then there's _some_ hope for you." Both paused and considered the other; Ellie saw she had gone a bit too far. "I'm sorry, Jess. Your...convictions are admirable. I just don't want to see you lose Leslie because you're afraid to touch her boobs."

Jesse gave a little snort of laughter. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

"_Really?!_ You tried to feel her up?" Ellie asked eagerly, suddenly more impressed with her brother.

"No...Well, yes. That happened months ago."

At that moment, Ellie was paging through one of Jesse's sketchpads and happened upon his drawing of Grace Jacobs' breast. It took the boy a lot of coaxing to admit whose it was. When he finally disclosed the owner's identity, Ellie burst out laughing again.

"You _still_ have the hots for her, Jess? Or just a little action going on the side?"

Jesse was horrified. "_NO!_ I just...it was one...an accident, I swear!"

Ellie nodded disbelievingly and watched her brother's face go scarlet.

"Then why do you have this drawing? And I must admit, it's _very_ realistic, and looks like you put _a lot_ of effort into it."

"Cut it out, Ell!" Jesse grabbed the pad back, slipping it under his bed covers. But she laughed all the harder.

"Planning on using that later, little bro?"

There must have been a noticeable degree of guilt on Jesse's face, for Ellie winked again and muttered something that sounded like, "Have fun."

Jesse shrugged, conceding the point and moving on. "Anyway, then there was the incident with Grace, and now I can't get her – Leslie's - _boobs_ out of my head. Funny thing is, she told me once she didn't think they were her best asset."

Ellie looked confused for a moment and then laughed. "Jess, take my word for it, she's got a _fine_ rack. Not large, but..."

"_How would you know?_" he nearly shouted as a twinge of jealousy shot through him.

"The Keane's. We changed together a couple times." A scowl came across her face, then a look of horror. "I hope that bastard didn't have any cameras in that room, too."

"Then why would she say something like that?" Jesse asked, trying to get the conversation back to Leslie's statement.

"Maybe she's not a _breast woman_." Seeing Jesse's confusion at the term, Ellie explained further. "Women think some parts of their body are prettier or more alluring than others. And Les is a very pretty girl, in many ways. She might think her hair or legs are her best physical asset. So there's something for you to discover about her: what she believes is her best physical attribute."

"Hmm, ok...maybe." But he wasn't so sure, based on the reaction his hands evoked earlier that evening.

"You know, Jess, all this talk about sex has made _me_ horny. I think I'll go back to my room..."

"Ellie!"

"...think about Toby and..."

"_Stop it!_"

Opening the bedroom door with a backwards glance and teasing smile, she gave her brother a wave. Jesse jumped up and followed Ellie to _her_ room, pushing his way in when she tried to close the door on him.

"What's this?" she said in feigned irritation, barely containing her amusement. "You want to _watch_ or something?"

"You're _disgusting _sometimes, Ellie. I _have_ another question."

"Sit," Ellie instructed, and Jesse did. "Ask away."

Jesse couldn't help but feel he was intruding. _Was she really going to…? Just get to the point, Jess._

"Ellie, is…s-sex good…I mean fun…all the time?"

Again, the older sister found herself unable to answer her brother's question, at first, due to shock. She sat and thought for a minute.

"_All the time?_ Hmm, I've never really thought about it, Jess…and it's not a yes or no question, I think. Maybe…it could be considered good all the time for one of the partners. Of course, the goal is to make it good for both, but sometimes that doesn't happen."

Ellie scooted over to Jesse and put her arm around his shoulder. "Look, little bro, making sex good or fun is all about sharing and giving and learning how to be intimate with someone. It's more than just a bodily function…"

"I kinda guessed _that_: Not exactly on the same level as taking a dump, is it?"

Ellie pushed Jesse off her bed and he landed heavily on the floor. "Don't _you_ get disgusting. It might be fun to talk to your guy-friends that way, but it can turn a girl off real quick!"

"Ok, ok. Sorry."

"Oh…get up. Now listen to me. If I've learned anything, it's that you can't rush love. So if it's love you're after with Leslie Burke, find some other outlet for your urges until both of you are ready. And both of you feeling _hot_ is not a sign that you're ready.

Before speaking, Jesse considered all Ellie had said. _She's changed a lot more than I thought._ "How did you get to be so smart?" he asked, more as an expression of admiration than a show of surprise.

"From being _stupid_ for so long, that's how. Now get out, I have something I want to do," she said, smiling and winking. But not a minute later, Jesse heard his mother talking to Ellie as they walked down the stairs.

* * *

Makayla Flynn was sitting at their regular lunch table when Jesse and Tom arrived the following day. Leslie was eating with the drama department, Barb was also missing from lunch, eating with the yearbook committee, and the twins and Mikey were in the hallway arguing about the Health assignment. Being identical twins, Carol argued, she wanted to switch places with her sister so she and Mikey could be together.

Lisa refused. "We're not _identical_, we're _mirror_," she reminded her sister. "If Mrs. Everest sees which hand we're writing with we'll probably fail the assignment."

Carol became angrier than ever and walked off in a huff. Mikey followed, but Lisa sat in the hallway sulking through the period.

Back in the lunchroom, and for the first time all year, an unwelcome face appeared behind Jesse, one Tom was loathe to point out.

"Manning." It was all he needed to say.

Jesse glanced back and saw his other nemesis sitting with Gary Fulcher along with a third vaguely familiar face, an upper classman, but one he could not place. Ricky Manning turned just then and saw Jesse watching. The face was blank, but then showed a slight smile. Jesse hoped Manning had learned his lesson and would discontinue tormenting him and his friends. That illusion lasted all of two seconds; Manning brought his hands up to his face making like he was holding an invisible camera, snapping pictures. Simultaneously, Jesse and Tom flipped him off.

"I can't believe he got out of juvie so soon, bloody wanker."

Makayla coughed, blushed, and then asked, "What was that about?"

"Just an old friend," laughed Tom. Jesse said nothing, which only sparked the girl's interest more, but she waited to see if Tom, who was a fast eater, would leave and give her a chance to ask Jesse for details.

And that was exactly what happened. Ten minutes later, Jesse was going through his calendar and marking off some assignment due dates, but when asked, stopped to give a more complete explanation of the events from the previous year. With each detail, Makayla's eyes grew wider and her face darker, though he omitted many of the details which could lead her to the Keane family's situation.

"That's _horrible_, Jess. I'm glad Tom and Leslie were ok."

Jesse smiled and went back to entering the assignments. A minute later Makayla interrupted him again.

"Jess, would you check your calendar, please? Do you have anything scheduled for January 20? Uh, during the evening?"

"Ok…January 20th…nope, why?"

"Would you like go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with me?" she asked brightly. And hopefully.

Jesse looked up slowly. "Um…Kayla…you know Les and I are going out, don't you?" _He_ knew full well _she_ knew.

"Yes…but are you…_serious_?"

"Yes…Very."

"Ok, just thought I'd try." She sighed and started to collect her things.

Jesse looked at her again. "Thank you for asking, Kayla," he said sincerely. "If…well, thanks."

Makayla gave him a stern look. "That's not fair, Jess. '_If_' what?"

_How do I always do this to myself?_

"If things were different I would have accepted, that's all. Hey! Why don't you ask Tom? I _know_ he'd go with you!"

Makayla gave him a skeptical look. "Thanks, but I'd plan on remaining a virgin past ninth grade."

"Oh…yeah, ok, um…good idea," Jesse sputtered. He wanted to say Tom's reputation was badly overinflated, but he was not as certain as he used to be.

With that, Makayla rose, smiled at her new friend, and left the cafeteria. Jesse didn't relax until she was gone and then turned back to finish with his calendar. He hardly had a chance to pick up his pencil, however, when someone sat heavily on the bench next to him. On the other side of the table, Manning and Fulcher stood, silent, threatening.

"How's life, Aarons? Looking for a new girlfriend?"

Jesse smiled in spite of his fear. "I'm great, thanks for asking, Manning. How are the new teeth?"

Neither boy moved, but both smiled. "Like you to meet a friend of ours, Aarons," Fulcher said, speaking for the first time. "This is Steve: Steve _Hoager_. He's a senior, plays middle linebacker for the football team."

Jesse looked at the person next to him and made a quick appraisal. Six three, about two-twenty… He also saw something none of the other three had noticed and made a snap decision. Picking up his calendar and backpack, Jesse stood, looked at Fulcher and Manning, and calmly and contemptuously said, "So is this it now? You two have all the brains had he has all the muscle? I'm shaking in my shoes."

The last jab, Jesse knew, was not wise, but he couldn't resist. And besides, he had something the other three did not know about. The older Hoager jumped up, nearly knocking Jesse over simply by his size, but grabbed the front of his sweatshirt jacket with two large hands, ostensibly to provide some intentional bumps of his own.

"_Mr. Hoager_, is there a problem here?" a voice called out. An adult voice. Jesse had seen one of the infrequent lunchroom monitors strolling in their direction and taken the opportunity to use his presence as a shield.

"_Nah_, just keeping Aarons here from falling." Hoager opened his hands and Jesse nearly stumbled again, not realizing that the senior had picked him up enough that he was on his toes.

"That's nice of you Mr. Hoager. If you and your…friends are done eating, then get out of the hall. You know the rules. I'm sure you wouldn't want to earn a detention and not be able to play this Friday, would you? Particularly with that scout from Penn State coming to the game."

Neither Hoager, Fulcher, nor Manning said a word, but turned, retrieved their things from the table, and walked out of the room. Jesse was straightening up his shirt when he caught the adult's eyes. They held a perfectly clear message: _You were lucky this time, kid, I might not be here the next._

* * *

"So Kayla's after you now?" Leslie asked as she looped her arm through Jesse's between classes, but he just snorted in response. "You know, Jess, you _have to_ go to the dance with her, she asked you first. That's the rules of Sadie Hawkins."

"Oh, please, Les! And why do they have the stupid thing in January? I thought Sadie Hawkins day was this month sometime."

"It conflicted with that big annual fundraiser, I heard. So, what are you going to do?"

"About what?"

"_Kayla!_ You have to go with her, you know."

"No way!" Jesse stated, stopping and pulling Leslie out of the throngs of students cramming the hallway. "Why don't you ask me?"

"Doesn't matter; she asked first."

"Then I won't go…and why are you so set on me going with her?" he asked, becoming irritated.

"Oh, don't get mad, I'm just teasing you," Leslie finally admitted, giving Jesse a quick kiss. "We have to go; did you tell her to ask Tom?"

Jesse explained Makayla's comment about that possibility. Leslie cringed.

"Ok, I'll think of something…" They started out for class again through the noticeably thinner crowd of students. There was only one minute before the next bell.

"Les, there're a hundred other guy in ninth grade, she can probably find someone on her own."

"No, she's too shy. Billy told me she'll only do things with people she knows."

"Well, I don't want another Grace Jacobs, so please don't ask her to go with us. See you later." And with a short wave, Jesse headed to biology while Leslie frowned and turned into her AP English classroom, having forgotten to ask her boyfriend to the dance.

* * *

While fall reached its peak in Lark Creek, Jesse and Leslie's Health project began to take shape. Without the distraction of another poll appearing on her computer, Jesse would lay on the bed while Leslie typed ideas they had thought up. After a couple brainstorming sessions, these ideas were broken into a number of general headings and sub-headings.

"What do we have now?" Jesse asked for the twentieth time.

"One: Wedding; Two: Reception; Three: Honeymoon," Leslie turned and batted her eyes dramatically. "Four: Apartment selection; Five: Furnishings; and Six: Miscellaneous. Let me print it out for you."

Then began the process of prioritizing each activity, in case they ran out of money before finishing.

"Wedding first, you reckon?" Jesse asked.

"No, Jess, we need to find a place to live first."

"Ok. How about a third-floor, three-roomer overlooking the valley?"

"Budget, Jess! Hang on, let me check apartment prices around here." Leslie spent the next few minutes grumbling, but eventually found a couple possible places. "This one is smaller, and doesn't have a view, but it's in our price range. We'll have to pay 1,200 up-front for security and utility fees it says."

"How much smaller is it?"

"One bedroom. I can't believe how _expensive_ this is!"

Jesse grumbled. "Ok, bookmark it. If we have more money when we're done with the other things maybe we can upgrade." But he doubted his words. "Wedding?"

"_Yes!_" Leslie cried, a little overenthusiastically. "Sorry. Under Wedding, we have: invitations, gown, tux rental, flowers, music, limo, rehearsal dinner, and fees. I looked around and got a price range on gowns that looked pretty; they run from 350 to 6,000. Maybe we should budget...500?"

Jesse felt awful when he saw the look on Leslie's face, but they had already spent 1,700 of their 10,000. "Ok, hopefully we can do more."

By the time they were finished with the wedding and reception, nearly 8,000 had been spent. Both adolescents were aghast, and more than a little down. Nearly every item they had chosen was at the lower end of the price range, including a DJ who would play for practically nothing to get his business going and renting a tent for an outdoor reception. This left just over 2,000 for their apartment furnishings and a honeymoon.

Leslie flopped onto the bed next to Jesse and groaned. "We _could_ elope, Jess. It would save a ton of money."

"Yeah, I thought of that, too, but I want you to have a nice wedding. I know how much it means to you."

Repositioning herself, Leslie kissed Jesse long and deeply. She knew it was only a school project, but she felt they were both taking the decisions seriously, as if they were planning for a real event. A jolt of something hot and stimulating coursed through her body at this notion, and, having just broken away from her boyfriend's lips, immediately returned until they were again interrupted by the approach of an adult. Leslie quickly returned to the desk, thankful for a bed that didn't creak, and Jesse flipped onto his stomach and wiped off his mouth.

"Any ideas where Jess and I could go for an inexpensive honeymoon, Mom?" Leslie called into the hallway as Jesse groaned and shook his head. But it was her father who answered.

"Any place that doesn't require driving or flying will be cheep. Why don't you go backpacking?"

"Honeymooning at a KOA? Yeah, we'll think about that. Thanks, Dad." Leslie glanced back to her bed and did a _gag-me _motion with her finger. Jesse was already trying not to laugh aloud.

The reality of life, however, ended up making a weekend trip to the Roanoke KOA a distinct possibility as they spent most of their remaining funds on furnishings for the apartment.

"Camping might be fun," Leslie said wistfully, "Though more privacy is usually what newlyweds want, I've heard. Have you ever been camping?"

"Just a couple times when I was about six or seven and we went to Smith Mountain Lake."

"We should go sometime…maybe with Tom and Grace before they leave."

Jesse gave Leslie and incredulous look. "You think our parents would let us go away overnight, Les?"

"No, I guess not, I didn't think of that. So much for my great plan…But it is odd, Jess: For years they've let us hike into the mountains by ourselves. Didn't they think something could be going on then?"

_Damn! Why didn't I think of that, either!_

"Must be because it's during the day. We all know nothing happens during the day," Jesse said sarcastically.

"Anyway, it looks like we have a choice between, one: no honeymoon, two: no apartment furnishings, or three: elope. I mean, Jess, we can't cut back any more on the wedding without asking the guests to pay their own way." Frustrated, Leslie sighed and flopped back down on the bed next to Jesse.

"You run out of money?" Judy Burke's voice startled them just as Jesse was turning to kiss Leslie.

"Pretty much. Everything is so expensive!"

"Welcome to the real world. You could elope," Judy suggested.

"You'd want us to?"

"We're estranged, remember? You and Jess aren't talking to us, so our opinion should have little bearing on your choices."

"That's true, Mrs. Burke, but it still doesn't get us more money."

"If you elope, you would…"

"But I want Les to have a nice wedding! Running off to the county judge is hardly something to remember."

Leslie took his hand. "Jess, we _could_ postpone the party and have a simple civil ceremony until we earned more money. It's _you_ I want, not a fancy wedding."

The kids continued to discuss their options, but Judy Burke stood, stunned by her daughter's last comment.

_Had she meant it to come out so honestly? And Jesse didn't flinch… No, she's just getting into the spirit of the project._

Watching on, she was not surprised to see how lovingly they each considered the other's feelings, as if they were planning…. Of course, little was resolved with such accommodating behavior, and Jesse went home later grumbling about having only two weeks remaining for the project. When Leslie returned to her room after seeing Jesse to the door, her mother was waiting.

"Les, I would rather you didn't…" Then she stopped, aborting the planned statement that would prevent Jesse from being in the room with her, and on her bed with her. "I just want you to know your father and I can help with this project, if you need it. We might have some ideas."

"Ok, Mom. Thanks."

In bed that evening, Judy brought up what she had seen and heard in their daughter's room. Bill nodded, actually listening to his wife and not typing.

"They're cute together," was his guarded response.

"Yeah, like two decked-out trolley cars on a collision course. Bill, I feel helpless! You didn't see Les the other night after Jess went home."

"What're you talking about?"

"She had _that look_."

"Huh? Which one? The _fuck me now, Jess_ look you've been warning me about?" Judy nodded. Bill sighed. "Have you talked to Mary?"

"Not yet, but would you talk to Jack…please? I can't think of anything else to say to Leslie."

Sighing again, Bill nodded. "We're meeting with the lawyers Friday about the land, I'll take him out for a beer afterwards."

"Thank you, love."

"And why don't you try giving Les an incentive? Hint at the spring trip."

Judy thought about this for a moment. "Ok, that might work. But we both know how hard it is to fight the urges at their age."

"We can't lock them up, Jude." Looking at the clock, Bill yawned. "How are _you_ feeling?"

"Pretty good this time. Have you checked the well water recently?" Judy asked seriously. She had lost their last child through a miscarriage brought on by contaminated well water.

"Every week. How do you think Les will take the news?"

"Probably a lot better than me finding out I'm going to be a grandmother."

"Uh, yeah…"

* * *

Judy, and the passage of time, had finally reconciled the differences she had with her sister, Joan, and the Burke's visited Arlington for Thanksgiving, and for the first time since their-falling out so many months before. Leslie was happy to see her aunt again and share with her some of the advances she and Jesse had made in their friendship. But Joan repeatedly forced a change of topics on her niece to prevent another family fight. Leslie understood, but still brought up a few things that Joan begrudgingly answered or opined over.

Back in Lark Creek, at dinner the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend, Leslie was resolved to speak with her parents about the gradual but definite changing level of intimacy with her boyfriend. She didn't feel confrontational, but _was_ interested in hearing what her parents considered an appropriate next step. The talk with her mother five months earlier, following Jesse's abbreviated attempt to touch her breasts, and the new limits Leslie had had imposed upon her, already felt out-of-date. (And particularly in light of what had occurred the night she and Jesse had taken the survey.) Holding hands, French kissing, and, as her mother had put it, "Fully-clothed, above-the-waist, non-lingering, light petting," seemed so last-week.

It was time to renegotiate.

"Mom, Dad, _ahem_," Leslie started. But suddenly feeling far less brave than she had ten seconds earlier, she looked down. Clearing her throat again, she saw Jimmy watching her. He had a look on his face that said, _I know you, Les, you're about to say something that will freak-out Mom and Dad._ And he was correct.

"I was wondering...since I'm fifteen now, how much more can Jess and I do together?"

Bill continued eating, thinking Leslie wanted to know how much later they could stay out at night. Since his talk with Jack Aarons, the kids had seemed less…_explosive_, sexually. But Judy was more on the same wavelength as their daughter. "Define 'do,' Les."

"More intimate things, like touching and..."

"_Sex?_" Judy interrupted, setting her fork down and trying not to show her frustration.

"Well, not intercourse, I'm not ready for _that_." Leslie believed her clarification sufficient; however, it did little to assuage Judy's anxiety.

"That's...smart, Les. Honey, let's talk about this in private...And didn't we have this conversation last June?"

"Yes, we did, but things have changed...a little," she hurriedly added. "Jesse and I still have to work out the details, so I want your input first."

Judy cringed inwardly: '_Work out the details'? Never heard it called that before. At least she's being honest._

Bill, who was just now becoming fully aware of what the conversation was about, actually felt relieved that the kids would talk things through and not just plunge into bed together.

"Les, uh, are you talking about...what _are_ you talking about..._exactly_?" her father asked, but her mother didn't give her a chance to reply.

"I know you feel you deserve more latitude because of what happened with your father and I, but that's not a good reason to jump in the sack with Jess."

"_No_, it's not that, Mom. I'm just...we're just curious. And we _do_ love each other."

"Of that I have no doubt, sweetheart. But are you sure you're ready for this? Jesse's not even fifteen."

Leslie shrugged. "Like I said, we're not planning to have intercourse."

Bill blinked rapidly, unsure of what to say.

"Les, what is it you want from me...from your father and me? Permission for Jess to...touch you? Or are you looking for opinion and rationale? I play Devil's Advocate pretty well. We already set up limits for both of you; have things changed _that_ much?"

"Yes, I think so, Mom. And I need more information...details, about why my body does things and what it's telling me. Like when I think about Jesse sometimes and..."

"_Leslie!_ Ok, we'll talk about this after dinner," Judy stated decisively, ending the discussion but not the dread building up in her chest. At times like this, Judy wondered why they had taught their daughter to be so open and forthcoming. When she looked to her husband, Judy saw he was regarding their son and how he would have a similar conversation with him in ten years or so.

Leaving the teen to clean up after the meal was over, Judy took Jimmy and walked over to the Aarons' house to speak with Mary, but she stopped half way there.

"Maybe I should find out what Les has in mind first, eh Jimmy?"

The toddler looked up at his mother, not having the foggiest notion of what she was talking about.

* * *

"Alright, Les, what's on your mind?" Judy asked a few hours later. Jimmy was in bed and Bill in their room writing. Leslie was lying on her bed, and Judy sat with her back to the laptop, straddling the chair.

"Did you talk to Mrs. Aarons already?" asked Leslie grumpily.

"No, I did not. I thought about it, but wanted to hear what you had to say first."

"I love Jess." Leslie declared the moment her mother finished. Her face had instantly gone from sulky to delighted.

Judy waited for more, but it was not forthcoming. "Yes, you said that. And I believe you. What precisely do you think that entitles you and Jess doing together?"

Without blinking, Leslie dramatically wrapped her arms around her body and replied, "I want to feel Jess's hands on my skin. Sometimes...when he brushes against my breasts...well, it's..._wonderful_. I'd like to feel his hands on my whole body, not 'Fully-clothed, above-the-waist, non-lingering, light petting'."

"I'm glad to hear you remembered that much," Judy said sarcastically. "Have you two gone beyond that?"

"No, not yet. But Mom, it's going to happen, I can _feel_ it," Leslie stated earnestly.

"What else?" Judy asked.

"I just want…_more_."

There was a long pause before Judy spoke again. "Leslie, you forgot something very important."

"What? _What?_" she demanded impatiently.

Judy felt like screaming. "It's _who_, not _what_. I can see _you_ want more, how about Jess?"

_How many times do I have to say this to her?_

Leslie was shocked. She tried to reply, but was not so self-absorbed to realize her error. All that came out was a quiet, "Oh."

"There's an old saying, sweetheart, 'If you aren't sure whether you are _both_ ready for intimacy, then you're not ready.' Are you _both_ ready?"

"I – I don't know," Leslie replied honestly. "I thought so, but maybe not." She recalled how it was Jesse who had stopped himself from fondling her that night, even when she had made her breasts so accessible. _She_ had wanted it, _she_ had ached for it, but _he_ had held back: _he wasn't ready_.

"Dear, you've _wanted_ Jesse Aarons for years: socially, emotionally, _and_ physically. But love isn't what your father and I did, and you _know_ that. I have little doubt that you two _will_ get there. But do it together, please. There isn't a rush."

_How many times do I have to say this to her?_

Leslie flopped back down on her bed and covered her face; a mixture of emotions that almost felt crippling assaulted the fifteen year old. She knew what her mother meant, she knew _exactly_. And she also understood that making it there_ 'together_' was more than a reference to dating the boy she loved, but also to the social, emotional, physical...and spiritual bond they were building. _The whole package. Together._

Judy watched her daughter for a few minutes, having a pretty good idea of what was going on in her head. "Les, would you like an incentive?"

"For - For what? Not having sex with Jess?" Leslie now felt guilty even saying it.

"No, for keeping the same limits we spoke about in June, at least until Jess turns fifteen." Then she smiled. "Well, maybe we can relax it a little bit...but just a little."

Leslie sat up and commented, smiling slyly, "It must be a pretty good incentive."

Judy laughed. "Your father and I think so. We know Tom and Grace Jacobs are your and Jess's best friends, and that they're leaving in June. Since the summer beach trip didn't work out too well, we thought the four of you might like to spend spring break together and do something...different."

Warily, Leslie asked, "How different?"

"We still have to work out the details, and I'm very sad to inform you that your father and I will not be able to go with you..." Although she tried to hide it, Leslie's eyes brightened, until... "But Jack and Mary Aarons _will_ be accompanying you. Possibly Al Jacobs, too."

A little deflated after the initial thrill, the teen tried to keep a straight face. "Why won't you and Dad be going?" she asked.

"Les, I'm pregnant again, and due in May."

Speechless, but only for a few seconds, Leslie relieved her mother's apprehension by smiling and then jumping up to give her a hug.

Later that night, Leslie made a decision concerning something she had been considering for many months. It was obvious that the bargaining with her parents on acceptable behavior between herself and Jesse could not continue. She _was_ fifteen, after all. She would honor her agreement until Jesse's birthday in April, but after that, what happened would be between Jesse and herself – only.

* * *

10 December, 0900 Zulu, The Persian Gulf  
Above and aboard the USS Mount Megiddo, LCAC 14

Timing was everything, and though tired from weeks of flying and fighting, the crews of sixty-one strategic bombers were awake, alert, and aggressive. The eight B-2 Spirit stealth bombers, twenty-nine B-1 Lancer strategic bombers, and thirty-two B-52 Stratofortresses flew together in the largest combined bomber formation since World War II, unopposed and, except for possible mechanical breakdowns, seemingly unstoppable. Preceding the bombers were F-117 stealth fighters and F-15 fighter-bombers configured to hunt out surface-to-air missile radars, triple-A artillery, and any other ground-based threats to the one hundred billion dollars of hardware that followed in the sky. And covering, protecting, and monitoring all of these were the venerable E-3 AWACS with fifty F/A-18 and F-22 fighters providing close air support from two carrier task forces in the gulf. With the Iranian air force reportedly destroyed, little air opposition was expected.

Far below the aircraft, in the waters of the Persian Gulf, there was an impressive sight, though few of the pilots could afford more than a one or two second glance to admire the view. Seventy LCAC Hovercraft and six LPD, LHD, and LSDs carried the tanks, armored personnel carriers and other assorted specialty troops and vehicles of the 116th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, the spearhead unit for the invasion of southern Iran. The fast-moving LCAC led the flotilla, and Corporal Tobias Walsh was trying to imagine how far off the coast of Bandar Abbas they were. The briefings had told his fellow soldiers that the bombers would hit just five minutes before they reached the beach, and at forty knots, five minutes was a little more than three nautical miles from the shore. And that was cutting it damn close.

There was not the slightest bit of compassion or mercy in Walsh's Bradley: _those bastards had started the war_. It was a sentiment common in the military and gave very, very few service men and women second thoughts about what would happen shortly ashore. Nearly a thousand tons of high-explosive bombs would rain down on the small port-city providing cover for the landing Army units, and hopefully destroy what little opposition that might exist.

The LCAC, an air-cushioned hovercraft, theoretically, was a smoother ride to shore, but most of the three crew and six passengers in the cramped Bradley it carried were puking, getting ready to puke, or had already puked. And the inside of the APC, Toby was sure, carried more than the odor of stomach juices: someone had shit his pants. More than once he had to take stock and make sure it was not himself.

Another hard bounce, then the engines spun down and the ride became as smooth as a baby's behind, and that meant…

The roar of the Bradley's engine was a welcome sound, if for no other reason than it would mean the air filters were going to start and clear out some of the stench. But it also meant that the LCAC was at the rendezvous and awaiting the bombers. On the deck, next to the APC were three light vehicles, Hummers armed with machine guns, surface-to-air missiles, and communications equipment, as well as four wheeled carriers with supplies; water and fuel, mostly. Other LCAC held similar loads, including twelve with the mighty sixty-three ton Abrams M1A2 main battle tanks, the real striking power of the unit.

Toby took a long pull of water from one of his two canteens and hoped the water truck next to them made it safely to shore. Refastening the canteen to his ALICE, he sat back and waited.

And waited.

The vehicle commander's voice came over the intercom and announced a two-minute delay while the, "Dumb-shit Air Force lined-up on the correct beach." Toby was perfectly happy to wait as long as they needed, just so the right spot was bombed. Being a friendly fire casualty – or any sort of casualty – was not his idea of a successful Army career.

The Sergeant reminded everyone, for the tenth time, to check their equipment, particularly their weapons. That took thirty seconds. Then the Bradley commander's voice announced another delay.

"_What the FUCK is going on out there?_" a panicked voice asked unnecessarily. The Sergeant stared the eighteen-year-old into silence. But the Bradley's radioman/gunner answered.

"A couple rag-head fighters got through the outer CAP. The Navy's butt-fuckin' 'em right now. Wanna hear?"

For no other reason than to break the tension, Walsh shouted out "Yes" along with the other five troops. Even the Sergeant had agreed. The radioman pushed two buttons and the inside of the APC was filled with static. An occasional voice broke through the noise.

"…Two MIGs…angels twenty…Blue Seven, what's your ETA?..."

"…On radar…ten secs, Big Bro…targets acquired…I have tone…locked on…missiles away…tracking both targets….splash two, Big Bro. Tell the Old Men to waltz, Blue Seven RTB to get a drink…"

The jumpy PFC across from him looked lost, but when the air battle was over, Toby told him what had happened.

"Blue Seven is a couple of our fighters. Big Bro is the AWACS steering them to intercept the MIGs. You heard them, they shot the fuckers down, and Blue Seven told the Old Men, those are the bombers, they could start their run. It will probably take a couple minutes for them to get repositioned. We're good, kid, don't worry." The words appeared to help Toby, too, and he caught an appreciative glance from their Sergeant: One panicking troop in a cramped Bradley can cause deadly mayhem in no time.

Two minutes passed and little was heard over the intercom. Almost time.

The LCAC's engines revved-up and the gentle rocking of the hovercraft became sharp little bounces as the craft began a slow circle before heading into the beach. Two loud tones were heard from the front of the vehicle, Toby knew they were the warning tones for the bombers. The Sergeant warned everyone to cover their ears. Even from three miles, a thousand tons of high explosives could injure an eardrum.

Then all Hell broke loose.

Three loud gong-like sounds were heard from the front of the Bradley, followed immediately by a string of vile curses, three more tones, and then the LCAC accelerated and made a sharp turn to port, so sharp that the three troops across from Toby would have landed on their neighbors if they had not been strapped in. But it was what he heard on the Air Force frequency that chilled his blood.

"…Echo three, Echo three, three or four contacts, on the deck, bearing zero-two-zero, heading one-eight-zero, speed one-zero-eight-zero…"

"…roger Big Bro…where the hell are all these planes coming from?..."

"…unknown, Echo three…you need to…"

"…burners, I am, shut up, Big Bro…ETA twenty-two seconds…"

Toby, like the others in the APC, was transfixed by the brief chatter, but he was the only one, other than the Sergeant, who noticed the AWACS controller say, "…won't make it…" through the growing static. The recently calmed PFC vomited again, but no one cursed him this time.

Only two thoughts entered Tobias Walsh's minds over the next thirty seconds.

The first was making love to his new wife three months earlier.

The second was the briefing from the LCAC commanding officer earlier in the day, specifically when one of the Hummer drivers asked about the conditions under which they would turn back and abort the landing. The reply had been etched into his brain and now seemed intent on bursting forth in a scream of terror.

"Corporal, only Jesus himself or _a fucking NUKE_ will turn us back."

Toby was pretty certain it wasn't Jesus that had caused the reversal of course. Again, he caught the Sergeant's eyes, but there was nothing reassuring in them this time: He had heard the same briefing. They shrugged at each other, both wondering if giving the troops a warning would do more harm than good, and both chose to do nothing, though Toby covered his eyes.

The Air Force chatter on the intercom became frantic, unintelligible.

The Bradley's gunner could be heard cursing his jammed-open viewing port, and praying.

The engines on the LCAC screamed.

A Stinger surface-to-air missile _whooshed_ away from one of the Hummers.

Although his hands were pressed tightly over his eyes, Tobias Walsh flinched when a painfully bright white light appeared and seemed to turn his hands and eyelids translucent for a fraction of a second; the bones and veins visible, as if he had suddenly gained the power of X-Ray vision.

He knew otherwise.

Revision 1.1, April, 2008


	3. Chapter 48: The Flop

**The Brink**  
**Chapter 48 – The Flop**  
(Please read and review, it makes us better writers.)

_Disclaimer: The world of Terabithia belongs to Katherine Paterson and her publishers.  
I'm just playing around in it for a while. No profit was, or will be received from this story._

__

**This chapter is rated **_**MATURE**_** for 'crude' l****anguage.  
****Please do not read if you think you might be offended.**

Leslie Burke woke up Thursday morning feeling as if a part of her had broken away and melted into the ground, lost forever in the porous soil. Moreover, this was not the first time she'd felt it, either. Since Janice Avery's death, she had been fighting the same feeling nearly every morning, and she could not shake it. Jesse said she was experiencing depression and loss from the tragedy, and Leslie reckoned he knew what he was talking about. In spite of the kind words from her friends, however, she still felt as if she had let Janice down. Additionally, the calamity that was now attached to Janice was also part of her and Jesse Aarons, for Janice symbolized one of the key people in their lives, one who had helped bring them together.

Judy had to call up to her daughter twice to come down for breakfast, and her father nearly left to pick up Jesse without her. But she made it in time and sat in the back seat, quietly holding her boyfriend's hand and fighting back tears. Jesse noticed this but didn't know what more to say, they had talked about Janice for days and nothing seemed to make Leslie feel better. He was grateful, however, she would be having Barbara over the next day to plan some sort of girl party.

Barbara Keane had been doing everything _she_ could to help Leslie through the bout of depression her friend had sunk into, for she was well familiar with the experience. And perhaps that experience, more than anything she said, helped her put the tragedy into perspective. There would be good days and bad, Barbara told her, but the good would become more frequent as time passed. In the weeks between Janice's death and _the party_, the pretty blonde and feisty redhead had become as close friends as Leslie and Grace, possibly even more so as they saw each other in school daily. There was always a limit, however, to what Leslie felt they could expect to share with each other: Barbara's past, she believed, would forever be a DO NOT ENTER zone. But as they spent more time together, the barrier was being slowly eroded away.

Leslie relied more and more upon her friend to assist her with the planning of the party, and their plans went through a number of iterations before invitations were sent out. Barbara was for a larger, more inclusive cross-section of their friends; Leslie wanted fewer. And she knew that when a bunch of fourteen and fifteen year old girls gathered together, much of the conversation would be about boys (and their butts), sex, and clothing – in that approximate order. So if there was going to be shared intimacies, Leslie wanted only their most trusted acquaintances. This logic eventually won Barbara's blessing, and besides, the event was taking place at the Burke's house so the Burke _daughter_ was boss. But she still tried.

"Are you sure you want to limit it to just us six?" she asked one final time.

"I can't think of who else we can trust to talk about the subjects bound to come up." This evoked a round of giggles. "Oh. . . .We _could_ ask Maggie."

"Maggie? My _sister_, Maggie?"

"Yeah, she's cool. . . . isn't she?" Leslie asked, wary of Barbara's look of skepticism.

"You could call her cool, I suppose. If you want to _know_ about, er, _things_, she's the expert."

Leslie was taken aback. Maggie Keane had always seemed as straight-laced as her sister Jen. "By 'things' do you mean boys. . . . And. . . . things?"

"Boys, girls, sex, the whole package. I mean, she doesn't have much practical experience, at least I don't think so. . . . it's more book knowledge. But she's always been the go-to girl when one of us had a question we couldn't talk to our mother about." Then her face fell. "Except Terri, you couldn't tell _her_ anything." Barbara sniffed and turned away for a couple seconds.

"Sorry," Leslie said, jumping up and embracing her friend.

"S'ok. We can invite her. But knowing you, she probably won't have a chance to talk with anyone else."

Leslie was more confused than offended by the odd comment and look of amusement on her friend's face. "What do you mean?"

"You have an insatiable curiosity about sex, Leslie Burke. . . ."

"_I do not!_"

Barbara laughed aloud and said, "C'est vrai. _Qui s'excuse, s'accuse!_"

"Hey, I'm taking Spanish, what did you say?"

"It's a French expression: He who excuses himself, accuses himself."

Leslie grimaced. "Does it seem that way to everyone?"

"No, just your closest friends, I think." She paused. "Les. . . . have you and Jess, er, _done it_, yet?"

Opening her mouth to protest such a forward question, Leslie instead told the truth. "No, still a virgin. . . . For now," she finished, arching her eyebrows mischievously. Then she smirked. "And you? _OH CRAP! I'm sorry, Barb!_ _I. . . . I . . . ."_

"It's ok, Les."

It was obvious it was not _ok,_ and Leslie's heart sank. "I can't believe I said that. I am so, _so_ sorry. . . ."

But then, unexpectedly, Barbara began to tell Leslie about her family and sisters' lives over the past few years, and her cheeks rapidly became as red as her hair. At one point, Leslie had to calm her down to be understood. She told her everything: the brainwashing, the 'private' life and secluded houses, the photographic sessions that became touching sessions and so forth.

"My father could be _very_ persuasive without being threatening. At first, he would make like he was explaining human anatomy, pointing to a part of my body and explaining in detail how it worked. He started at the top," Barbara touched her lips, "showing me how to kiss, and then moved down. I remember he spent almost an entire week explaining to me about my boobs, how they worked. He was _so bloody smooth_ about it. If there was anything even remotely sexual about the topic that day, he would have me do the touching, or guide my hand through the action. . . .At first. . . .He got me used to the feelings."

Leslie sat transfixed, in barely hidden disgust, as Barbara told about her father taking pictures.

"'For you,' he would say, for when I was older. And I bought it. . . . I guess. The whole nudism thing was just another way to get us comfortable with being naked, and it kept Jen's suspicions down for a long time." Looking suddenly timid and ill, she grimaced and continued. "It wasn't until he got down there," she pointed to her lap, "that I began to wonder. But whenever I hesitated, he would stop and begin talking about males and how they were different. He used to take off his shirt and have me stand in front of him with mine off so he could point out. . . . Things - you know, physical differences. Eventually it got to a point where we were standing with little or no clothes on. Then the heavy sexual crap started. Sometimes we'd be together for hours, him telling me about his dick and what made it hard. I guess I was about twelve, during our last year in England, when we met Gracie and her family."

"I never imagined, Barb. Your parents were always so proper and kind," was the only remotely logical thing Leslie could think to say when Barbara lapsed into silence.

"Yeah, they were good at fooling people. They were experts, especially my father. Anyway, once we reached the point of touching our. . . . down there, it was only a matter of time before the sex started. But he still kept up this pretense of being a teacher. Looking back now, I can't believe I was so gullible. I think it was partly because he always made a point of making sure I, er, was. . . . you know . . . . satisfied. I don't think I ever left one of our rendezvous not having had an orgasm." Barbara gave a rueful little laugh. "It was like we always finished on a high note. He had me addicted to sex. I – I can't remember a time when I said I didn't want to feel that - that intensity. What's really disgusting is that there are some parts of it I miss."

Before continuing, she sighed, stretched and lay back on Leslie's bed. "It took me months of counseling, since Mum and Dad were arrested, to work through all this. I think I'll feel tainted for the rest of my life."

"So he made you do. . . . everything?" asked Leslie, trying to make her question sound less driven by curiosity than it truly was.

Barbara frowned. "Pretty much, he even tried anal, until I said it hurt too much and he stopped." Then sitting up, she spoke as if she were trying to justify her father's actions. "See, Les, that was the thing about him. In a way he _was_ genuinely gentle; it made me feel like he really cared for me. I remember one time asking him if all parents did this with their kids. He said they did, but I shouldn't speak about it because there were some who were not as fortunate as I was and it would hurt their feelings. What _fucking bullshit!_ I can't believe I was so. . . . never mind."

"What about the F.L.E. classes? You must have heard something about sexual abuse, didn't you?"

"We were never allowed into an environment where morality was openly discussed. Remember last year? I spent the period in Activity, not F.L.E. No church, nothing that might tip us off."

"_It wasn't your fault, Barb_," Leslie said emphatically after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. She was quite sure this was the first time the girl had shared these secrets with a peer.

"No, it _sure-as-shit_ wasn't. He was a smooth bastard, an _expert_, a _real professional_. I hope he burns in Hell, Mom too. Fortunately he wasn't too smart: I don't know how he could think it all would have stayed a secret forever. Maybe he was going to scamper. After that faked picture of you last year things changed, maybe he . . . . I don't know any more."

"What are you doing now, Barb? I mean, are you still talking to someone?"

"Yes, Maggie and I are both seeing a shrink in Roanoke once a week. He's great and has helped me a lot. Jen and Maddie are seeing someone, too; they have their own head-doctor near them." She stopped and thought of her two sisters, smiling. "Maddie's really looking forward to having Grace and Tom nearby."

"Barb," Leslie said quietly, and after a long pause, curious about one other item. "Do you know why Terri killed herself? Did she leave any note?"

The redhead gave Leslie an annoyed look, but answered anyway. "_Daddy_ got her pregnant, but I guess just about everyone already suspected it."

"Sorry," Leslie said, and meant it. Barbara nodded soberly.

"Our parents will pay," she said grimly. "The UK is trying to extradite them since their _activities_ began there. But the real reason is that they know the D.A. is going to ask for the death penalty for my father, since the grand jury found him responsible for Terri's death, even though it was a suicide. I think it was an emotionally driven decision, and probably won't work, but there's always hope." A gleam of evil flashed over her face; Leslie saw and felt the chill it put into the room. And Barbara saw her shrink back a little. "Don't look at me like that, Leslie Burke. He raped, abused, molested and killed one of my sisters. _SHE WAS THIRTEEN, FOR GOD'S SAKE!_"

Suddenly in tears, Leslie moved over and hugged her guest, and it was accepted, though a bit stiffly. "If there's anything I can do…"

"Just _drop it_, Les, now that you know everything," Barbara snapped abruptly, pulling away. That barrier - the _DO NOT ENTER_ zone – _had_ been entered, and probably too soon.

A short time later, Barbara took out her cell phone, called her sister and asked if she was available the following Friday. While they were speaking, Leslie scurried down to the kitchen for some snacks and a breather from the intense situation. When she returned, her guest was acting putout.

"Maggie said thanks, but she isn't available. She has an engagement. Sorry." Then moving on, Barbara rallied and ran through the list of invitees. "Ok, so far we have: you, Grace Jacobs, Lisa and Carol Silliard and Kayla. . . ." She sat up straight. ". . . . and me, the substitute sex expert." The tease made Leslie feel better and as the plans progressed, the brief awkwardness disappeared. Still, she was concerned about how quickly and easily Barbara could turn one emotion off and another on.

The invitations the two girls put together on Leslie's laptop featured a combination punk and athletic motifs – running, dancing, swimming and soccer – sports they were all involved in. They would be delivered at school Monday, discreetly, of course, for the Friday night event. The only acceptance glitch they expected was the Silliard twins who could not spend the night as they had an out-of-town dance competition to attend early the next morning. Their friends wondered about the girls even more when they had discovered Mikey and Tom were _both_ traveling with them and their parents to the event.

"Those two might be more _expert_ than you," opined Leslie.

"Too true. They have an odd arrangement, those four."

Both girls rolled their eyes and went back to planning.

A couple weeks earlier, when Leslie approached her parents with the request to host a party, Bill and Judy were ecstatic. Their daughter had typically shunned such events, but high school was making her more sociable, they guessed, and every assistance was offered. In the earliest stages of planning for the event, Barbara had suggested that Leslie take up her parent's offer to go all-out, and Leslie immediately agreed. Never one to flaunt her parents wealth, it took a while before she asked for what amounted to an unlimited budget, but again, Bill and Judy happily handed her a credit card and told her to, "Try to keep it under. . . ." The figure was well beyond what even Barbara had imagined extravagant, and she had a very high threshold of what she considered excessive. So with only six girls, the expenses would be a non-issue.

"Let's have a limo pick up everyone, Les. They'll freak!"

Leslie smiled, nodded and made a note.

"Cater the food?"

Another note.

"Can your mother take us to the Party Store?"

"If she can't, there are cabs," Leslie said offhandedly.

"Live band?"

"Don't think that one will fly. Maybe in the summer when we can go outside," Leslie laughed.

"We're partying here more often, girl! Let's see. . . .How about a couple strippers?"

"Male. . . ." The girls giggled. ". . . .Or female?" and then they pretended to gag, but Leslie made no note this time. Seeing this, Barbara suggested they hire one of their fellow students. By the look the redhead gave, it was obvious who she was suggesting.

"Maybe next year. We have to show _some_ restraint!" she lamented.

"What about games? I keep hearing about a wild game of Truth or Dare a few years ago."

"Jeez, yes! That was a surprise party we threw for Jess's twelfth birthday at the Jacobs. It was a little intense three years ago, but might be interesting to play a PG-rated version."

"R-rated would suit you better, I think!"

Leslie stuck her tongue out and then went back to planning games, music, and food. But in the back of her head, she thought it might be an excellent suggestion.

Nearing nine, Judy called to the girls that Jesse was on his way up. Leslie beamed and hid her notebook. After greeting her boyfriend, Barbara watched the two interact. She was spending the night and felt no inclination to make herself scarce. But Jesse was only stopping by to invite Leslie and her family for dinner Sunday and departed after a lengthy kiss. When he was gone, Leslie flopped down onto the bed dramatically and sighed.

"You got it _bad_, girl!" Barbara laughed. "You ought to videotape yourself when he comes in the room. I don't think you realize how you change."

But Barbara's words went unnoticed. For a minute, Leslie lay with her eyes closed and thought about her and Jesse together. It took a while for her heart to calm and remember she had a guest. Sitting up, she saw Barbara regarding her with a mixture of envy and amusement.

"Les, do you keep a calendar of your cycle. . . .When you have your period?"

Nodding, she pointed to her desk where a small pocket calendar lay; her guest walked over and picked it up.

"Let me guess. . . . 'S' is for start and 'E' is for end, right?"

Leslie nodded again and then watched as Barbara picked up a pen and made a mark.

"What did you do?"

Her answer was seeing the calendar fly through the air and land on the bed next to her. Barbara pointed at it and mimed for her to read.

"What's the 'O' for?"

"It should be an 'H' for horny, but an 'O' for ovulate is probably safer for public documents like that. My _wonderful_ _mother_ used to call that time of my cycle the _Horny Hormones_, when we ovulate. You've never heard that?"

"I – I think Mom sorta hinted at it a couple times. She called it the opposite of PMS."

"Yeah, that's it. The hormones that make you ovulate also make you more fertile, and horny, so you're mind and body are most interested in sex when you're most fertile. It's one of those evolutionary things we'll learn about in biology. I bet if you track your feelings for a few months you'll see it happens about the same time each cycle, just like PMS. And based on your blank expression, flushed skin tone, heavy breathing, and the way your hands were all over Jess, I'd say it's a good bet you're _ovulating_ now."

"_Shitake mushrooms!_ Do guys have the same thing?" Leslie asked seriously.

Barbara howled in laughter. "Of course, but theirs starts with puberty and ends with death!"

A floor below, Bill and Judy heard the girls laughing uproariously and figured it had to be due to a conversation about boys.

* * *

The stretch limo that toured around Lark Creek the following Friday drew much attention. Aside from funerals and weddings, which never took place on Friday evenings, the luxury car was seldom seen. But the most surprised were the girls being picked up. The chauffer dutifully stopped at each of the invitee's house and announced that their ride awaited. This extra touch, Leslie was told, only required a modest tip to the driver. As everyone was expecting Leslie's parents' SUV, the astonishment was all the greater. Inside, Leslie and Barbara waited to greet each guest, the redhead videotaping each girl as they walked in astonishment to the car.

When all six girls were inside, Leslie ordered haughtily: "Driver, tour the city"; everyone laughed at the irony, even the chauffeur. The excursion took all of ten minutes, including a slow circumnavigation of the high school. As they proceeded, everyone tried out the television, phones, and even attempted to get into the locked liquor cabinet. Then they headed back to Leslie's house amid laughing, giggling and loud talking.

Judy and Bill formally greeted the limo in front of the house; but that, Leslie assured her guests, was the last they would see of the adults. "Unless they appear to say goodnight." She escorted everyone around the side of the building and to the back door, explaining how she once had to strip naked and clean skunk musk off herself after she and Jesse had been sprayed. The story evoked further laughter and excited chatter about 'stripping' outside – even Grace, normally straight-laced, thought this amusing.

Inside, the guests found the large basement decorated and a variety of modern music playing, a sparkling mirrored globe rotating from the ceiling and tables of drinks, games, and party favors. To the side, the caterer was preparing for dinner. Leslie showed everyone where they could store their overnight things and then took them on a tour of her house, ending in her room. Grace and Barbara had visited before, but the others were surprised by the modesty of their friend's home: It was large, but not ostentatious. A short time later, Judy called up that the caterer was ready and the girls retired to the basement to begin the party.

Dinner was informal and the girls sat around the monitor watching a DVD of 1950 & 1960 television commercials, howling at the archaic, stiff, black and white advertisements. The DVD also contained a selection of favorite TV shows from the period. For the most part, the girls found the material more amusing than boring, something Leslie had been a little concerned about since you never know exactly how a group's collective appreciation of humor will manifest itself.

After dining, the girls moved to the unfinished part of the basement temporarily and changed into their nightclothes while the dinner service was cleared. Lisa and Carol sat glumly, bemoaning the fact that they could not stay the night until Makayla distracted them by asking about Irish dancing and begging them to do a couple steps. In minutes, all the girls were trying, but only Leslie showed any aptitude with a Jig. As they wrapped up the dancing, Barbara and Makayla started to pull out cards and place chairs around the large card table in the next room, but everyone's attention was focused on the sliding glass door that led to the deck. Someone was knocking quietly. Leslie pulled open the curtain and five male faces with wide eyes and big grins peered in at them.

Some of the girls started screaming but Leslie shushed them quickly. Then opening the door, Jesse, Mikey, Tom, Billy, and another ninth grader they knew, Kyle, ran into the house. In the background you could hear the twins exclaiming "Party crashers!" But they didn't sound at all upset.

"Hey!" Jesse greeted Leslie, breathless from the sprint over. "We can't stay long…" Surveying the other girls in their nightclothes, Jesse paused. "Well, maybe we can stay a little while…"

"No way, Jess! If Bill or Judy came down here they'd freak out."

"Listen to your. . . ." Billy started to warn Jesse. Then seeing Makayla in only an old, worn shirt, decided hanging around a few more minutes would be ok, and he sat to watch what would happen.

The girls had gathered on the thick rug in front of the fireplace, partially covered by a couple blankets, and the boys sat on the couch and chairs. Little conversations soon broke out and in minutes, everyone was comfortable again. Mikey and Tom would act out by trying to sneak up next to Lisa and Carol, but one of the other girls would shoo them away.

Upstairs, Bill and Judy had just put Jimmy to bed and were lounging in the living room. It was obvious that Jesse and some other boys had joined the party, but Judy knew they could not stay long. Mary Aarons had promised to keep them segregated after nine, and it was already eight-forty. And by the bursts of laughter, it was pretty obvious nothing inappropriate was happening. Still, Judy looked at Bill.

"Think you should look in on them?"

"No," he replied, smiling. "But since you won't let me finish my book until I do, I'll have a quick peek." Moving his wife's feet from his lap, Bill rose and quietly started walking down the stairs. At the bottom, he slipped around a partition, out of sight, and tried to listen to three conversations going on at once. The topics changed as the kids – the boys in particular – became more rambunctious.

Much of the chatter was typical teenage girl-boy bravado: friendly insults and brash claims. Then a voice, which Bill could only identify as _not_ being Jesse's, rose above the others: "...I'll pull your pubic hair, if you do..." Stunned, Bill didn't hear the reply clearly, but there was no obvious tone of indignation or offense in the response.

_Have things changed _thatmuch_ in twenty years?_ He asked himself.

Repositioning, Bill found a spot where he could see most of the kids without being obviously visible. Jesse and Leslie were next to each other, sitting on the floor, poking each other playfully, but the rest of the kids were sitting apart. Even Tom and Mikey, he noted, had not joined their current girlfriends on the floor.

_Being the hostess has its privileges, I guess._

Returning up the stairs, Bill was far more concerned about what he would say to his wife than what he had heard, but his face gave away the bind he was in.

"Uh-oh! What's going on down there?" asked Judy, frowning.

"Nothing. . . .physical, just an unexpectedly bold comment from one of the boys. . . .No, not Jess."

"What did he say?" Judy persisted, and her husband told her. "Oh. . . ." She looked at the clock. "Jesse has to have his friends home in less than ten minutes, I guess they're all safe."

Surprised, Bill made the mistake of asking whether Judy wanted him to check one more time, just to be sure. She said yes.

The second trip downstairs revealed nothing further, except one of the boys' claim that, "Billy Eccles has a _boner,_" was false. "It's just my belt, see!" he said, laughing. A couple of the girls squealed and a couple sounded disappointed. Bill Burke couldn't tell which group his daughter was in, and returned to the living room telling Judy all was well. A minute later they heard the girls calling out their goodbyes to the party crashers as they left.

"Ready for bed?" Bill asked.

"It's only nine!" Judy turned up the volume of the Baby Minder and went back to editing her book. Bill sat and lay his hand on his wife's abdomen, waiting for the baby to kick.

* * *

"_Jess! _Go now, _please!_ You'll get in trouble," begged Leslie.

"All right. Wanna do something tomorrow?"

"Of course, but I'll have to clean up this mess first. The afternoon's free."

Jesse pursed his lips, and looked into Leslie's eyes. A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched. "It's a date. . . . But I have to go to church at three. . . . For confession."

"No problem. It will. . . . _Jesse Aarons!_" she whispered, pulling him close. "You went to Confession _last_ week. Have you been a naughty boy?"

Unable to hold back, Jesse snorted out a laugh. "Been thinking about you too much, I guess."

He kissed Leslie and turned to the other boys. "Come on you guys, let's go." And leading his slightly dejected party-crashers away, headed back into the dark.

"Les, what were _they_ doing here?" Makayla asked, mostly in surprise and embarrassment.

Entranced by Jesse's comment, Leslie took a few seconds to answer. "Uh, they were out playing Laser Tag. Forget them; where were _we_?"

Gathering up all the pillows and cushions from the room, they spread blankets and sleeping bags in a front of the hearth, made themselves comfortable, and began chatting. Lisa and Carol, who had to leave in an hour, continued to mope and act dull, but when Barbara noticed this, she elbowed Leslie and made an announcement.

"Ok girls, we have time for a round of Truth or Dare before Lisa and Carol have to go!"

Grace groaned, but the others cheered happily and the twins instantly broke out of their malaise. They were in their element now.

"Rules?" asked Carol.

"_None!_" her sister exclaimed.

Grace piped in quickly: "Nothing gross, you guys." Half the girls laughed, the other half looked disappointed, but Grace persisted. "I mean. . . .no, uh, _lesbian_ stuff."

Barbara cursed and made like she was disappointed, which drew another chorus of ribald laughter.

"Ok, no one has to _do _anything with Grace," Carol conceded, but in a rather disingenuous tone. "Don't worry, we'll keep it R-rated."

Following more cutting-up and laughter, straws were drawn and Lisa was chosen to go first. She looked around at her friends and settled on Makayla.

"Sorry, Kayla, but we know the least about you." Lisa drew a piece of paper out of her pocket and opened it. A couple of the girls saw it was a print out of the survey many of them had received emails about late the previous year. Makayla saw it too, and groaned.

"Don't worry, we're nice to new-comers. Truth or dare, Kayla?"

"Uh, truth, I guess."

"Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?"

"No, never," Makayla answered smugly. Lisa's return gaze said there would be further questions from the survey on the next round.

"My turn!" Carol said happily. "Les, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Has Jess ever touched your…you, I mean, has he ever gotten to third base?"

"Not really. . . . No."

"_Crap_, then there's no hope for any of us if those two haven't _done it_ yet," Carol lamented. The others agreed with exaggerated gloomy expressions.

"Ok, Gracie, your turn."

Still a little irritated at Carol for suggesting the game, Grace chose her.

"Carol, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

The girls howled.

"Ok, I dare you to. . . . show us any part of your body, normally hidden by clothing, that my brother has touched."

The dare was met with a mixture of gasps and giggles, and more than one comment about how Grace had no business limiting the scope of the dares given _her_. But Carol only rolled her eyes and lifted up her top to expose her chest to the others. Another chorus of cheers met the slightly blushing dancer, and she took her time tucking things back into their proper place. Then she smiled at Grace. "Just remember, what goes around..."

Grace laughed and cut her off. "You'll be pretty disappointed if you give me a dare like that." That brought forth more laughter from everyone, even the Silliards.

The game went on until ten, when the twins had to leave, and as the evening progressed turned into all six girls talking about their most awkward moments of adolescence. Leslie won the award for most embarrassed by consensus when she told of how, the previous spring, Jesse had pointed out to her that she had blood all over the back of her shorts, her period having started a day early.

"I'd think that would bother Jess more than you, Les."

"No, he's ok with that stuff. He said living with five females broke him in. But I had to, uh, _improvise_ something for a pad because we were out hiking."

"What did you find out in the middle of nowhere?" Makayla asked, wondering if her host had scraped moss or dry leaves together.

"It wasn't too hard. Whenever we hike, we carry extra stuff. Jess had a clean pair of socks so I borrowed them."

"Go Leslie!" Barbara shouted.

"Go Jess's socks!" Makayla added.

After the twins had left, the other girls went back to talking about being teenage females. They shared a number of personal stories about growing up, particularly ones involving false information they'd been told concerning adolescence. Leslie noticed that Barbara said little, and not knowing what Makayla knew about her situation, did not press her for anything she did not freely volunteer. But that was made moot around eleven when Makayla said she had something to ask. By her hushed tone and red face, it was obvious it was not going to be a question about general knowledge.

"I was wondering, when I was six or seven, before I was adopted by the Flynn's, my foster brother would, uh, touch me. Is that. . . .normal? I mean, do brothers do that to their sisters?"

The other three girls shouted "No" in unison, but the answer only upset Makayla more.

Barbara looked at Leslie and Grace, and then spoke: "Kayla, it's not normal for _any_ family member, and _you_ did _nothing_ wrong. You didn't ask him to do it, did you? I didn't think so. How old was he?"

"About fifteen."

"_Bloody wanker!_" Barbara cried and put an arm around her. Makayla was now familiar with British-speak and just nodded. "You could report him to the police. . . . Why not? You might be doing him a favor!"

"Huh?"

"Just trust me on this one, Kayla; nipping someone like that in the bud could save a lot of other people pain. Look, just think about it. Even if it was an anonymous letter to CPS, er, Child Protective Services, it might scare him enough to help. He must be in his early twenties now. . . .God I _hate_ men sometimes."

Shocked by the intensity of Barbara's conviction, and the lack of surprise on Leslie and Grace's face, Makayla understood why she was so passionate.

"This happened to you too, Barb, didn't it?"

"Yes," she whispered bitterly. "You could say that. But it was my _father_, not my stepbrother or foster-brother. He sexually abused me and three of my sisters."

Grace, well into tears, ventured a question. "Did he do. . . . I mean, more than just . . . . _pictures_?"

"Oh, yes, pretty much everything." She then went on to give Grace and Makayla a much abbreviated and censored version of what had happened leading up to the arrest of her parents and Terri's suicide. Their newest friend sat in silence, stunned; Grace wept. Following a few awkward minutes of quiet, Barbara began to talk again, but about far happier and light subjects.

But the fun of the evening had been seriously squelched and it took until the next morning for the girls to perk up again. Leslie didn't mind, however; it was not exactly the type of party she had planned, and most would consider it a flop, but it had obviously done Barbara and Makayla a lot of good, talking about their troubles. The two spent much of the morning talking alone, until they were picked-up mid-morning by the limo. Their goodbyes and hugs gave their host hope that both, Barbara particularly, were further along on the road to healing.

Grace hung around until noon, helping Leslie clean-up the basement. Unlike the other two, she remained sullen and quiet, but the only explanation she would give Leslie was that she was dreading leaving Lark Creek in three months.

"But look what we're going to do together before then, Gracie! In two weeks we're off on our mystery trip; Jess and I promise to take you and Tom camping and hiking on the Boone property; the musical is in six weeks and Judy and Bill offered to host the cast party - and I expect you to be there. . . ." These encouragements appeared to raise Grace's spirits and by the time her father picked her up, she was her old self again and gave Leslie a long, warm embrace goodbye.

"Growing up kinda sucks sometimes, you know, Les?"

"It has lots of advantages, too, Gracie," Leslie said, thinking about seeing Jesse soon.

* * *

Following lunch, Jesse and Leslie sat in his family room and chatted with May until she left with her mother to go to a meeting with her spring soccer team. Jesse heard about the heavy conversations at the party the night before and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend in mock comfort, then pouted when she didn't show any appreciation.

"Before she left this morning, Gracie said life sucks sometimes."

"Maybe, I guess. Everyone has bad times, Les. We've had a great few years together but there were times things sucked, too."

Leslie snuggled back under Jesse's arm and sighed. "Yeah, we've both done some stupid things, haven't we?"

"You more than me, Les," kidded Jesse, receiving an elbow in the ribs in return. But he turned and put his other arm around Leslie and kissed her – and she responded, thinking of the conversation she'd had with Barbara eight days earlier.

_She was right! There are times when I enjoy kissing Jess, and then there are times when I can't get enough. . . ._

Breaking away from the kiss, Jesse asked, "What're you thinking?"

"Oh, uh, just about us. . . . You and me."

Jesse laughed. "'Us' usually _is_ you and me. What about 'us'?"

She kissed him. "I don't know, maybe. . . . Jess, last week at play practice, Mr. Stamper gave me information about an acting class in Roanoke run by some Hollywood people. Do you think he's suggesting I'm not good enough for this part?"

"No, he probably wants you to. . . . I don't know, maybe get exposed to other teachers. When is it?"

"Right after school gets out. It's two whole weeks. I don't suppose you'd like to go, too?"

Grimacing, Jesse shook his head. "No way! You be the actor, I'll just watch from the audience and bring you flowers."

"Ok," Leslie smiled, giving Jesse a quick peck on the cheek. "I look forward to it."

Settling back down, half reclined on the couch, Jesse told Leslie that Ellie and Toby were coming up for dinner the next day.

"He's still in a couple casts, but Ell says he's getting better every day."

"I'm so happy. Do you miss your sister?" she asked, knowing full well he did, and very much, since she had temporarily moved in with Toby's family.

"Um-hmm. Brenda's opened up some, but it's not the same."

"What's going on with her and the Army guy? Are they going out?"

Jesse took a minute to answer, his right hand playing absently with a button on Leslie's blouse.

"Yeah, I guess so. She sees him after school almost every day, and he's over here a lot. Mom and Dad still aren't real happy about her seeing a soldier, though."

"I can understand that. Is he coming to dinner tomorrow?"

"Yep, bringing a couple pies, too."

"Mmmm. . . . Jess, what are you doing with your hand?" One of his fingers had abandoned the button and was gently poking Leslie's navel and softly touching the skin around it, though he didn't realize the effect it was having. Leslie didn't mind, but they weren't in a location that would be considered safe for exploring. It took her friend a few seconds to answer.

"I like the feel of your skin. You're so soft," he said quietly, almost in awe.

"Oh. You know, Jess, some places are softer than others. Should we . . . . go some place more private?" she added breathlessly, boldly, all the while knowing exactly how Jesse would respond.

His finger withdrew. "D-Dad's home and. . . ." He stopped and kissed her deeply, then moved apart a little. "This is one of those times when it wouldn't be a good idea to be alone."

Leslie looked at him and nodded; still having a promise to keep, at least until April 11. She decided to tease her boyfriend instead. "And I don't want you to have to go off to Confession _every_ Saturday afternoon." Smiling impishly and blushing, she got up and turned on the TV. "Let's watch that show you like. What's it called?"

"How It's Made. Channel 42."

* * *

Bill Burke sat silently as Jack Aarons read from his notes. It was early morning at the diner and one of the few times there were any significant number of people in the old converted rail car. The presence of others, however, was not disruptive this time as he considered what his friend was saying.

_I should have known..._

"You need to diversify more, Bill. Jeez, you have eighty percent of your liquid assets in one damn bank. If that bank were to go under you know what would happen?"

"Isn't it insured? That F.D.I.C. thing?" asked Bill lamely.

"Yep, one hundred thousand dollars, that's all. _And_ the government has ten years to pay you back." Jack paused to let his words sink in. "Get yourself down to Roanoke - _today_ - and move your money around. The way things are heading with the economy, tomorrow may be too late."

Bill nodded and took Jack's notes, surveying them briefly.

"Thanks, Jack. What about our little project?" Another small pile of papers was pushed across the table. Bill reviewed them while he sipped his coffee and gnawed on a bagel. "Wow! That much?"

"Yep."

"Ok, and you still want to do the . . . . General contracting, you call it? If you screw up I'll have to fire you."

Jack Aarons produced a rare smile. "I'll take my chances, and Jess and I will be doing most of the work."

"Good, then it's set. You'll start as soon as the weather gets better?"

"No, I have to get the access road started as soon as possible, and the surveyor back in, too."

"Ok. Say, have you heard from the county about the kids' land?"

"Not yet, but the surveyor will know and I'll ask when I call. I have to run," he said shortly, tossing a five-dollar bill on the table, which Bill matched. "Get your ass to town _today_, this morning, if possible." And with a quick handshake, Jack Aarons was off to work.

Revision 1.1, June, 2008


	4. Chapter 51: The Compensation, Part 3

**The Brink**  
**Chapter 51 – The Compensation (Part 3)**  
(Please read and review, it makes us better writers.)

_Disclaimer: The world of Terabithia belongs to Katherine Paterson and her publishers.  
I'm just playing around in it for a while. No profit was, or will be received from this story._

_The Teen version of this chapter can be found in A Life Rescued, chapter 51._

Mrs. Aarons flashed her husband a number of curious looks Monday morning at breakfast. Every few seconds he would chuckle quietly and then resume eating or sipping coffee. And at the far end of the table, Jesse and Leslie, who had just returned from jogging a couple miles around the deck, were having an animated argument, albeit a quiet one. She could not hear the topic of the disagreement except that her son repeatedly said something about not being called _Cupcake_.

Monday on the Royal Caribbean's _Freedom of the Seas_ was a cruise day and that meant no port – all entertainment was to be found aboard the ship and there was plenty to be found. Grace had planned to spend the day with Claire in _Teen Time_ and at the pools, so she disappeared shortly after breakfast. Jesse and Leslie wanted to try the wave rider and climbing wall before the crowds appeared, so they also left after a quick rinse-off.

Tom thought it best he avoid Mel and hung around the cabin watching a shipboard movie until Jesse's parents threw him out, saying he had to be out doing some activity. But instead he just went to the _Network Center,_ a room where passengers can use common computers for light business needs, and wrote some emails. His first one was to Madison Keane briefly telling her how the trip was going. He then wrote four others, including one to his father. When finished, he saw Madison had replied to him already. She sounded depressed so he looked up a funny, on-line greeting card company and sent her one with dancing penguins. She loved penguins.

Mid-morning the weather became a little stormy and the seas turned choppy. A three hundred million pound stabilized ship doesn't roll much, even in heavy seas, but Leslie quickly succumbed to violent seasickness and returned to the cabin with Jesse. He explained to his parents that she was at the top of the climbing wall when she first felt ill, though upon reflection he suspected it had started the night before. While his mother escorted the slightly green tinged teen to her room, Jesse called Vanessa and asked about getting seasickness pills. She told him there were some in the room's first aid kit and two minutes later Leslie was downing one with ginger ale. Before she had the chance to lay back, however, everything came right back up. Fortunately Mrs. Aarons was quick to grab the trash can and the bed clothes were spared. When a second attempt to keep the medicine down also failed, Jesse was sent to sick bay to fetch a patch. With this addition, Leslie soon felt better and fell asleep. Jesse cleaned himself up and sat in the room with his girlfriend, drawing her sleeping, a first for him.

Around noon, Tom ran into Tim Haskell and was beckoned to sit with him for lunch. He reluctantly agreed, and as he suspected the conversation almost immediately turned to Tim's sister. The older brother apologized for his sister and insisted she had been joking about her intentions when returning to the cabin. Tom was not convinced, however, and said the girl had a sick sense of humor. The brother agreed.

"But really, Tom, she feels terrible. Give her another chance – if you want, that is."

Tom would not commit to anything except thinking about what the brother had said, and the two ate lunch in an uneasy silence. Shortly thereafter, and though still not finished eating, Tim made a sudden exit and Tom was annoyed to see Mel plop down into her brother's chair. He felt as if the whole 'chance' meeting at lunch had been a set-up.

"Tom, I'm sorry about yesterday..."

"Yeah? Well it was a bad joke," he replied harshly, not even making eye contact. A long silence followed until, having given up. Mel started rising. "You, uh, wanna do something today, Mel?" he asked – without much enthusiasm.

"Sure…if you really want to. I hear there's a wild game of bingo in the theatre at one. Want to go?"

Looking up finally, Tom saw Mel was smirking. He said no, and besides, he hated bingo.

"How 'bout Put-Put?"

Mel flopped back into the chair dramatically and in a relieved tone said she would love to.

* * *

The rough weather passed late Monday afternoon and Leslie immediately felt better. She and Jesse decided to head back to the upper decks, try the waterslide and hang out at the pool for a while, but Leslie's stomach protested the slide so they sat around the pool and talked.

Jesse was again forced to deal with every other male passenger staring at his girlfriend as they walked by - and the jealousy it caused. He sometimes wondered if he would ever master it. What ultimately annoyed him the most, however, was that some of the guys their age seemed genuinely amiable and he would have welcomed their company. But suspicious of their intent, he did not make them feel welcome. It did not occur to him that this might have hurt or annoyed Leslie.

At one point they saw Tom and Mel walk by, but neither of them seemed terribly surprised by the reconciliation. Jesse had told Leslie about his conversation with Tom the night before, and she had even bet him they would get back together. "She just didn't seem like that kind of girl, Jess," Leslie said. Apparently she was right.

Grace and Claire also appeared around five o'clock and reminded them to be ready for dinner at six. They then disappeared, giggling and flirting with a couple boys. Jesse was silently relieved.

Immediately following dinner Jesse's parents called everyone together to talk about their stop in Puerto Rico the next afternoon. Vanessa had dropped off some information about tours, shopping and other activities. But Tom and Grace begged off, saying the Haskells had offered to take them into San Juan for dinner and shopping. Mr. and Mrs. Aarons saw no problem with this, called Mike and Alice to confirm the arrangements, and asked Jesse and Leslie what they wanted to do. Leslie said anything at all involving solid ground would be excellent - her dinner wasn't sitting well. After looking at the pamphlets, the four decided on a motor tour of the city and surrounding area followed by a picnic on the beach. The weather was predicted to be cool, so snorkeling and swimming were put off a day. And the ship left at eleven in the evening, so there would be plenty of time for all they planned or came up with. Mr. Aarons then made the arrangements.

With the next day's schedule settled, Tom pulled Jesse aside and asked if he had any plans that evening. Jesse said no and was told to meet him and Mel, with Leslie, outside the casino at eight, "Dress-up a little," he added as he disappeared into their room to change.

"What was that about?" Leslie asked, affixing another seasickness patch behind her ear.

"No idea, but we're meeting him and Mel outside the casino in a half hour." Leslie groaned and went to change. When she next saw Jesse, by the cabin door, he told her Tom had already left to get Mel and would meet them at the pre-arranged location.

Just before eight, the four stood outside the casino where two friendly-looking bouncers eyed them warily. Unfazed, Tom smiled suspiciously at his friends, took Mel's hand, and led them all around to the other side of the ship and the entrance to the _Starlight Lounge,_ one of the many nightclub/bars on the vessel. As Jesse was about to stop him short, Tom held up his hand.

"_Eighteen or above, Tom_. We can't get in there," Leslie said.

"Got your pass?" he asked Jesse, ignoring the protest. "Good. Hold Leslie's hand and if anyone approaches us just flash it. I did a little checking with Vanessa. It seems they're pretty lax in certain places, as long as we don't drink alcohol," he winked, "and these royal passes are insurance. Besides, we all look eighteen...or almost." He also said there was entertainment that evening, _adult_ _entertainment_. The girls smiled and Jesse blushed, but they all agreed to give it a try.

In fact, the dim light made all four teens look old enough, and as happened, no one was paying much attention to any reasonably adult-looking passengers. Tom led them to a spot where he had earlier scoped out a table in the dimmest lighting, but it was taken. Jesse, ever-worried about discovery, suggested they leave, but Leslie was enjoying the adventure, and being on the lower decks of the ship made its slight roll virtually unnoticeable. They ended up with ring-side seats around the dance floor where a man and woman – Bob and Fran - were setting up props for the entertainment.

Shortly before the start of the show, Tom disappeared for a few minutes, returning with four sodas. Then he arched his eyes at Jesse. "Drink it slowly, I don't want you embarrassing us."

Confused, Jesse took a sip and nearly choked. There was something far stronger than ginger ale in the cups. Leslie and Mel, seeing this reaction, took smaller tastes and just smiled at their bold friend. Then the show started.

Tom's information about 'adult entertainment' was only partly reliable, they soon discovered. The activities were primarily concerned with pitting the males against the females in fun games of skill and knowledge. There were some suggestive questions, and an occasional passenger who had had too much to drink, but on the whole there was more laughter than anything else. Fran seemed almost as embarrassed by some of the repartee as Jesse. But the four teens had a good time, slowly drinking what Tom later told them were _Vanilla Ales_ – ginger ale and vanilla rum. And he managed to procure two rounds undetected.

As the evening wore on, and the games became rowdier, Tom took a chance to visit the bar one last time and returned with a third round for everyone. But he also explained there was no way he would be able to do it again. "I had a guy looking at me the whole time, so don't any of you start acting funny." But the bartender _had_ suspected Tom, not of being underage himself, but of supplying the drinks to minors, so he gave him the last round with only ginger ale and vanilla flavoring, guessing correctly that the inexperienced 'adults' would not wish to embarrass themselves in front of the crowed room, (or that if they all _were_ of age they would complain). His first guess was correct, too, for both Mel and Leslie were, after two rounds, feeling no pain and laughing more than usual.

Tom, who had a little experience with drinking, immediately realized what the bartender had done. But far from being annoyed, he decided to play a joke on the man, keeping in the spirit of the evening. He found a cocktail napkin and wrote a name on it with a message for the bartender to page the person, then he passed it down the crowded lounge with the verbal instructions.

The final activity of the evening was being arranged on the floor when the two hundred or so passengers saw the bartender bring a note to Fran who was standing in the center of the dance floor. She read it and promptly made an announcement that _Mike Litty_ was to join his party at the Breakers Dining Room. Most of the people, Jesse included, didn't really pay attention to the woman until she said louder a second time, asking, "_Is_ _Mike Litty here?_" The room erupted in laughter and the scarlet-faced Fran flipped-off the bartender. "There's always one in the crowd," Bob announced while his partner recovered. Jesse, still not catching the joke, looked at Leslie but she was staring at the ceiling. He turned to Tom, who was laughing hysterically, and saw Mel hitting him with a _you naughty boy_ expression.

The final series of games again pitted the males against the females. Tom joined in one of the trivia segments, as he looked old enough to pass for eighteen, though his answers left much to be desired and the men lost that round. So with one competition remaining, and the men holding a commanding 100 to 20 point lead over the women, the last event began. The single winner could earn between 50 and 100 points – by flying a paper airplane across the room. In other words, the women had to have the best flight to have any chance of winning.

Five of each sex volunteered to construct one paper craft each, and one by one, each failed to fly it even the minimum distance required for any points. With one slightly inebriated and husky woman remaining, the females' only chance at winning was on the line. The MCs started to interview 'Marge' and found she had plenty to say without their assistance.

"Win or lose, _boys_, this one is for all of you. I've christened my airplane _fellatio,_ and it's gonna _blow_ _you_ away!"

The crowd howled in delight and amusement (even Jesse understood that one) as the woman threw her gender's last chance…and it made a perfect flight all the way across the dance floor, ending in the bartender's hands. The women all jumped up and clapped and screamed with joy, they had won the competition. Tom and Jesse gave each other shrugs.

"Jess, let's go find some quiet place and make-out with the girls," Tom leaned over and suggested with a smile. "They've been drinking - and might even feel bad for us losing."

Jesse had never been into 'public necking,' as he called it, but he was just tipsy enough to give it a try. And looking at Leslie he was pretty sure she might have the same level of interest. The four jumped up, albeit a little wobbly, and headed for deck seven and the seclusion afforded by the lifeboats. Hand-in-hand, the girls trailed the boys, giggling, until they were swung around and found themselves lip-locked, their backs to the railing. Jesse had to consciously muster enough coherence to be sure he was with Leslie – he wouldn't have put it past Tom to switch the girls on him…_not that that was such a terrible idea_. But he was too familiar with his best friend to be fooled, and knew – even in the dark – who he was kissing.

After a while of lip-numbing intimacy – or alcohol – no one was quite sure which, Mel suggested they go back to her cabin for more privacy. Shocking even himself, Jesse laughed and said he was hoping she would suggest that. Leslie giggled a little loudly and Tom simply nodded with wide eyes. Five minutes later, the four teens were locked in the small cabin, each couple lounging on one of the beds, and returning to their previous activity. Mel, unseen to a very preoccupied Jesse and Leslie, began to unbutton her top and then turned the lights off. But that was as far as anyone got. A knock on the door, followed by Claire's voice, ended the private party and everyone jumped up, trying desperately to straighten their hair and clothes in case Mr. or Mrs. Haskell were outside the door too.

As it happened, only Claire and Grace were waiting to enter, and it was painfully obvious both had a good idea what had been taking place. Jesse and Leslie slipped out and past the younger girls; Tom came next, followed by Mel who was still trying fruitlessly to realign the buttons of her blouse. In the elevator they stopped to gather their wits.

"Where we going, Tommy?" Mel asked, finally fixing her buttons between fits of giggles. Leslie, flushed, was panting and whispered into Jesse's ear.

"We can probably use the hot tub in our suite…if you want."

Slightly more sober now, Mel pointed out that she didn't have a bathing suit. Then she burst out laughing when Tom whispered his own suggestion in her ear.

Arriving at the suite, the four teens ran into Jesse's parents as they were heading out for a late night rendezvous with Mike and Al Haskell. Enough time had passed now since the last drink that, aside from a couple minor silly laughs, the four _appeared_ sober. They said they were going to use the hot tub, never considering whether Mr. and Mrs. Aarons had noticed that Mel didn't have a suit.

But once again, any plans the four might have had were spoiled by the reappearance of Claire and Grace who had the same idea – and suits. In fact, Clair pulled her sister aside and handed her one, too.

"We thought you guys would come up here and I figured you would need this."

The four girls went into Leslie and Grace's cabin to change while Tom and Jesse walked dejectedly to their own.

"I though we might've had a treat tonight. I gotta talk to my sister."

"Yeah, please do," Jesse agreed, then burst into laughter. "Fat chance we'd've had. My parents would probably have returned."

Tom shrugged and then shivered as he put on his cold, damp suit. He had forgotten there was a small dryer off the kitchen.

"There's always tomorrow," Jesse pointed out.

Flopping on his back on the bed, Tom said in a voice of wonder, "God, I'd love to get my hands on Mel's fun-bags. The twins are nice, but…"

"You looked like you were doing ok before Grace and Claire showed up. Isn't that why Mel turned the lights off?"

"I was trying to unhook her freaking _bra_," he laughed, then pointed to his chest. "It hooked in the front."

"Huh?"

"Some bras hook in the front, some in the back. Didn't you know that?"

"I – I don't know. Never really thought of it."

"There you go, Jess, something else for you to learn with Les."

Smiling at the idea, Jesse grabbed two towels as they headed out to the hot tub. The spa was just large enough to hold six adults, so the six teens had plenty of room. Now mostly sober, but still a little silly, Jesse, Leslie, Tom and Mel first tried to drive the younger girls away by restarting their under-the-lifeboat activities, but neither budged. Claire went so far as to say that she and Grace should have a turn with the boys – a suggestion that made Tom's sister blush brightly and duck under the water. When she surfaced thirty seconds later Claire asked if she'd seen anything worthwhile.

"Jess…maybe. My brother? Nothing at all."

With that barb, Grace and Claire were finally accepted and the other four discontinued their attempts at intimidation by intimacy. After a while, both younger girls made a point of telling their older siblings and friends that they knew there had been drinking. Tom tried to brush them off, fearing blackmail, but Claire had something else in mind and told her sister that they wanted to be included the next time they visited the lounge. Knowing the two girls could never pass for eighteen, Mel was able to placate them with a promise to take her and Grace out _somewhere_ on one of the islands. As this was probably the best that could be expected, they agreed.

Around midnight, Mel and Claire went home and Grace and Tom to bed. Jesse and Leslie changed and met on the starboard deck with a blanket where they snuggled and bundled against the cool night air. The consequences of their earlier drinking were making both feel a little ill and they lay quietly together, fighting the breeze uncovering their feet and listening to the rhythmic sounds of the ocean pounding the side of the cruise ship. From below they could hear the occasional voice of other passengers, from above the screech of gulls and terns.

"Are you having a good time, Jess?"

"Mm-hm. You?"

"Yes, but I'm really looking forward to being off the ship the next three days."

"Still feeling a little nauseated? I can get you another patch."

"I'll be ok. Besides, I don't want you to move, I'm finally getting warm."

Jesse smiled and knew Leslie felt his mouth against her cheek for she held him tighter. He thought back a couple hours to their necking under the lifeboats, and now sober, realized he had been a little too bold with his hands. When he tried to apologize to Leslie, however, she snapped back.

"_Jesse Aarons_, if I didn't like it, or didn't want it, I would have stopped you."

"I – I guess so…"

"Well, _Mr._ Aarons," she continued with a hint of mirth in her voice, and turning so they were nose to nose, "_did_ you like what you felt?"

"Um…Les, I was a little…I honestly don't remember what I felt. Um, where _did_ I touch you?"

Leslie laughed and kissed him. "You were pretty much just...feeling up my stomach."

"Oh…really?" He sighed, mostly in relief.

Following a long silence, Leslie said exactly what Jesse was expecting – and dreading – her to say. "Jess, it's ok…if you want more. You can touch me. I'd like it."

Speaking honestly (and stuttering nervously) he expressed his thoughts as clearly as possible: "Les, I, um, don't have a lot of self-control these days."

Leslie nodded. "Are you worried about us having sex, Jess?"

"Yeah…some." _A lot!_

"That's not what I'm suggesting, though the thought _had_ crossed my mind, once or twice," Leslie said truthfully, but in a cheerful tone she hoped would put her boyfriend at ease. It didn't, and she could tell by his body language that he simply wasn't ready for that leap, or even the serious consideration of it. Sighing herself, she tried a different approach. "You know I love you, Jess, right?" He nodded. "I promise I will _never_ push you into more than you want, ok?"

_Then why are you doing it now?_

"I – I just want you to know that kissing and hugging…and your vicious assaults on my waist - " both laughed - "don't have to be the limit, if you want to, uh, explore a little more."

Jesse was quiet for a minute digesting what Leslie was offering him. He had known for a long time this was coming, and if he was honest with himself he had not discouraged it, much. The desire for more physical intimacy was certainly there, though as Leslie did _not_ suspect, for him _going all (or most) of the way_ was intimidating, sinful, frightening, and even a little gross. But Jesse Aarons' biggest source of confusion was his inability to separate second and third base from scoring a home run. To him they were all essentially the same thing. Now, thanks to Leslie, he was questioning if that was accurate and true.

"Ok, Les, thanks. I guess I'm just not as ready as you are. Is that alright?"

Leslie said with honest affection that it was, and kissed him again.

Both fell asleep shortly thereafter, both wondering why love became _more_ complicated as time went by and not less.

When Mr. and Mrs. Aarons returned around one in the morning they did not panic finding Leslie and Jesse's beds empty: They were again sleeping together on the balcony.

"Should we leave them here tonight, Jack?"

"No, it might get too cold later. I'll take _Cupcake_ to his bed, you get _Sweetie Pie_." And smiling at his own joke, helped his wife untangle the two teens.

* * *

Jesse's parents wanted everyone to have breakfast together the next morning. As the two adults and four kids stumbled into the kitchen, the three older teens had to fight the effects of their illegal imbibing only eleven hours earlier. Jesse and Tom were best prepared, being of a larger size and having drunk a fair amount of water before bed to ward off the dehydration that accompanied alcohol consumption. Leslie looked pale and shaky, but Mr. and Mrs. Aarons assumed she was having another bout of seasickness and suggested she put on a new patch. Slightly green, the girl looked at Jesse pleadingly before putting her head down on the table with a thump. He ran off for more medicine.

Plans for day four needed to be addressed since the ship arrived at St. Thomas by eight o'clock Wednesday morning and the two groups would be separate until late that Tuesday night. The weather forecast for St. Thomas was excellent so tentative plans called for meeting at nine and going onto the island for a day at the beach. There was a large variety of water activities not far from the anchorage so everyone noted which activities they were interested in and Jack contacted Vanessa while his wife and the teens prepared for the day.

Back in their room, the boys flopped onto their beds and talked for a while about the night before. Jesse admitted that he'd had fun, but both agreed that the quantity of alcohol consumed was too much.

"Yeah, Mel doesn't have too many inhibitions with a couple in her," Tom laughed. But in reality he was a little worried. Had anything happened, or if they had been discovered, he and Mel would have been the ones responsible - and pay the price. "Let's not do that again, Jess," he finally said, and Jesse agreed, then got up to take a shower.

Half an hour later, Jesse lay on his bed reading a brochure about San Juan as Tom ran out to find Mel and her brother for a pre-arranged surfing lesson on the wave rider. A moment later, Leslie called in asking if she could use their shower, Grace was hogging hers she said. Jesse told her to help herself. When finished, Leslie ran out, wrapped in a towel, to get ready for her own morning plans with Grace and Claire. But not two seconds after leaving the room, her head appeared at the door.

"Jess, who took a shower last, you or Tom?"

"Tom, why?"

"Tell him to clean up after himself; he's a pig."

Jesse laughed. "It took you three years to discover that?" Rolling her eyes, she disappeared.

Jesse didn't see Leslie again until lunch and spent the balance of the morning sketching and thinking. His sponsored drawing lessons had ended in March, but he was comfortable with his progress and decided against continuing with the expensive instructions. While he drew, his thoughts flitted back and forth between his art and the conversation the night before with his girlfriend. Trying to understand and find equilibrium in their physical relationship was becoming more difficult. He could logically sit back (now) and evaluate what was desired versus what was proper, but two problems kept rearing up and confusing him.

First was the realization that his resolve was breaking down. Advancing into adolescence was doing nothing to help him deal with the uncontrollable effects hormones had on his body and mind. In that regard, Jesse knew that it was only a matter of time before his and Leslie's curiosity and passion got the better of them.

Second was his inability to gain mastery of his own private actions and the guilt that accompanied his more frequent failures at self control. He'd talked to Fr. Kelly, he'd talked to Ellie, he'd talked to Dr. Carlson – and while they all offered words of comfort and assurances of his normalcy, there was little provided to give him the relief he desired from shame and his growing feeling of helplessness.

_What's the solution?_ he asked himself. _Give in? Give up?_ _And if I give in will my life – and my life with Leslie – be better? Will I be more in control, or just _feel_ more in control? Where do I go for answers?_

Doodling on a blank sheet of paper, these were the thoughts passing through Jesse's mind Tuesday morning. As well as a growing sense of frustration within his heart.

* * *

The afternoon and evening in San Juan were delightful for all the Lark Creek travelers, but it was, perhaps, Mr. & Mrs. Aarons who were the most affected. Neither had been out of the country before and even the simple process of showing their new passports was a thrill. (Puerto Rico was a U.S. territory, but required official documentation to enter and exit.) Now an old-hand at this process, Jesse watched his parents acting like kids the first time their passports were stamped at the San Juan customs house. And throughout the day he would see one parent or the other taking out the small booklet and looking at the green and black stamp with ill-disguised satisfaction.

Their tour around the city and part of the island lasted three hours and returned them to customs near dinner time. The four then walked to the nearby restaurant Vanessa had contacted and gave their name to the hostess. Five minutes later they were again in a van, this time headed to an isolated beach a half-hour out of town where they were to dine and spend the evening. Upon arrival, Mr. Aarons immediately sensed the long arm of Bill Burke.

Under the palm trees, a large dining fly had been set up; inside a cook prepared a number of local dishes from obviously fresh ingredients, including conch and other sea foods. A picnic table and large blanket on the sand offered two different venues for eating, and a small portable bar had its own tender, smiling and ready to take drink orders. As might be expected, the adults gravitated to the table and the teens to the blanket, all carrying fruity drinks and plates of exotic fruits as appetizers. In hushed voices they spoke to their partners in surprisingly similar ways.

The evening wore on and dinner was served as the sun set. Torches appeared as they dined and a two-man band strolled into their private area playing a portable steel drum and singing. Jesse looked back at his parents and saw they were leaning across the table holding hands, much like Leslie's parents would do, concentrating completely on each other: It made him feel very happy. This was a scene he never in a million years would have envisioned a few years earlier. His father was a changed man, and his family was – in his estimation – becoming _almost_ normal.

And the music played on.

With the last of the sun's light nearly disappeared below the horizon, the time was rapidly approaching when they would have to return to the ship. But not quite yet. Jesse had been laying on the blanket with his arm around Leslie watching the stars when he turned and saw his parents dancing. Leslie looked, too. "They look like they're on a honeymoon, don't they?"

Jesse nodded. "It's a romantic place, I guess."

Laughing quietly as to not disturb Jesse's parents, Leslie asked, "And what do you know about being romantic?"

"Hey! I know it when I see it. But I'm a guy; it's up to the girl to initiate that kind of stuff."

"What? Jesse Aarons, you better learn quick that it goes both ways. And besides," Leslie huffed, "you've done pretty well."

"Me? You gotta be kidding. When was the last time I did something romantic?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, besides _kissing_ and _hugging_ and _holding my hand_? How about the last couple nights when we fell asleep together on the deck? Those were all very romantic...Don't you think so?"

Preferring not to think of romance at all, he hedged. "Um, ok. I guess I just don't think of them like that."

"Then what's your idea of being romantic, Mr. Jesse Aarons?"

_Ugh!_ Shrugging, Jesse sat up and thought. It only took a couple seconds. "Here, give me your hand – _and promise not to laugh_."

Leslie obeyed, curious about what Jesse was about to do or say. But she found herself more than shocked and delighted when her boyfriend pulled her to her feet and said, "Dance?" It was overdramatic in the worse way, especially for Jesse, but Leslie loved it nonetheless and they moved into each other's arms for the few remaining minutes on the beach. When the music ended and Mr. Aarons cleared his voice, it was time to go, but there was one other thing Jesse wanted to do. He embraced Leslie warmly and whispered _I love you_ into her ear. She responded by holding him even tighter. "Not too bad, Aarons. You're learning," said Leslie as she let go.

The trip back to the docks was quick and quiet. The moment they stepped on the boat Leslie felt a queasiness return and threaten to bring up all the strange foods she had eaten earlier. She and Jesse stopped at sick bay, which was right next to the deck four entryway, and picked up more seasickness patches. By the time they reached the cabin, it had started to work.

"No falling asleep on the deck tonight, you two," Mrs. Aarons said, hugging both teens affectionately. As she and her husband walked to their cabin, Jesse and Leslie shared a knowing look. It was quite obvious neither adult would be out of their cabin until morning. The click of the room door's lock confirmed it.

"I guess we should get to bed, Les."

Sorely tempted to ask if that was an invitation, Leslie instead nodded, kissed Jesse long and passionately, and said goodnight.

"Hey, Jess, have a good day?" asked Tom as soon as he had closed the bedroom door.

"Excellent! You?"

"Amazing. I wish we were moving closer to the Mel's family, that for sure." Sighing deeply, Tom flopped back onto his bed.

Jesse sat on the edge of his bed, pealing off his clothes in preparation for a shower to rinse off. He looked long and hard at his friend, and shook his head.

"What?"

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Jump around from girl to girl like that? You're dating Carol...or Lisa – whoever - and here you are getting friendly with the first girl you meet on our trip."

Tom smiled. "No, the first girl I met was a hooker. And what do you care? I told you before, you could have a half-dozen of the best girls back home."

"Right, _Jesse Aarons, the Lark Creek god of love. Ha, ha, ha_. That's me alright."

"You mock me," said Tom with a falsely serious timbre. "Some day, when you and Leslie break up, you'll find comfort elsewhere."

Laughing, Jesse shook his head and went to the shower. It wasn't until the water was running that he leaned against the wall and thought seriously about Tom's comment. That same elephant Judy Burke and Mary Aarons had been running into recently was now hogging the small bath with him.

Soaping and rinsing off quickly, Jesse pulled on his boxers, shorts, brushed his teeth and returned to the bedroom. Tom was still awake and gave him a rather crude smirk. "That was fast. I thought you'd be in there a while."

"Kiss my ass, Tom. And next time _you_ jerk-off in the shower clean up after yourself."

"_Wha…?_"

"Les used it right after you did this morning."

_Oh shit…I was in a hurry…_ Tom blushed deep red and mumbled an apology. Then he saw Jesse grab his pillow and start to leave.

"Where you going?"

"To see Les."

Seconds later Jesse tapped on the girl's bedroom door; hearing no answer he opened it quietly and slipped in. In the darkened cabin he felt with his foot for the end of Leslie's bed and then leaned over and asked, "Can I join you for a while?" Hearing a muffled groan he conveniently interpreted as a yes, he began to climb into the bed next to her.

"_Jesse?_"

"Huh?"

A thump followed by a blood-curdling scream filled the cabin and the once horizontal body he was next to jumped up and pushed him on the floor.

"_JESSE?_" Leslie cried out louder, then, "_Grace_, be quiet!"

"_Grace?_" Jumping up himself, Jesse tripped backwards over a bag on the floor and landed awkwardly on one of the chairs. Dim light filtered in as the bedroom door swung open.

"What the hell's going on in here? You ok, Gracie?" Tom asked.

"_NO!_ I mean, yes. Jesse, what were you doing here?"

With the light, his error was clear to see. Jesse looked at Leslie standing in the bathroom doorway, her hand over her mouth stifling a laugh: Grace was in Leslie's bed.

"I was…I was…" Jesse stuttered, pointing at Grace.

"Yes, I want to hear this, too," Mr. Aarons voice sounded from behind Tom. Jesse looked to the door again and saw his scowling father's face appear. He was standing in his underwear.

"She…Grace…Leslie was…that was _her_ bed…" he continued to plead uselessly. Grace was now beginning to laugh.

Tom turned to Mr. Aarons and said lightly, "See, it's ok, Jesse wasn't trying to get in bed with Leslie."

Jack Aarons wasn't amused. "Jesse, get you ass into your own room. _Now_." Then he turned and walked away.

"I'm sorry, Jess," Leslie started to explain between giggles. "Grace and I switched beds, hers was too firm. You couldn't have known."

"Uh-huh, right," Tom chuckled and headed back to his room.

Untangling his arm from the handle of the chair, Jesse got up and silently left the room. When the door was closed the girls started laughing quietly.

"I hadn't thought of _that_ benefit of switching beds, Les. Maybe we should switch again and see what happens."

"You're lucky I came out of the bathroom just then. I'd hate to have heard your scream if Jesse had gotten bold and grabbed you – uh, somewhere."

Grace gave her friend a impish grin. "How do you know? I might have stayed quiet."

"True…"

* * *

All day Wednesday was spent in St. Thomas. The Virginians and their new Ohio friends spent the morning on a short bus tour of Charlotte Amalie and looking through the older parts of the city. Following lunch and a quick trip back to the _Freedom of the Seas_ to change, the families headed to a local beach for snorkeling and a long lay in the sun. Vanessa had again outdone herself in making preparations for the day, and the corner of the beach they used was quiet and not lacking in wandering musicians, drink vendors and a number of parasols with lounge chairs and blankets. Mr. and Mrs. Aarons found themselves more than a little embarrassed by the attention given them, but Mike and Alice Haskell told them not to worry, they were quite delighted to share the experience.

The real surprise of the day arrived at two o'clock that afternoon when a taxi pulled up to the curb next to the beach. Tim Haskell, who had been acting fidgety all day, ran up to the car and met the actress none had seen on the cruise since their departure. A large man, a bodyguard Jesse reasoned, also exited the cab and stood discreetly away under a palm tree. Tim escorted the young woman, who was about his age, over to his family and friends, introducing her to everyone as Julie Summers. When the presentations were complete they went for a walk on the beach.

"Rich and famous," Mr. Haskell sighed. "We're in the company of the rich and famous. It's almost as good as being wealthy and well-known ourselves, eh, Jack?"

"Wouldn't know, Mike. Ain't never be neither."

"Oh, poo, Jack. You got it where it counts," Mary said playfully.

When Tim and Julie returned, everyone went snorkeling again. Although Jesse and Leslie had more experience, Grace was the best at it. Being a swimmer, she was completely comfortable with being in the water and spent time with Julie, who had never snorkeled and had a severe confidence problem in the ocean. But Grace was able to help her through her initial fears, and by the time the actress finished she was breathless and wide-eyed. "I've never seen such beautiful things," she exclaimed over and over. And although Julie wanted to go back in, it was time to start packing up and return to the ship.

Leslie finally had the opportunity to talk to the young star on the ride back to the dock. As soon as the older girl heard Leslie was in her high school musical and attending an acting camp that summer she opened up and told of her first experiences in Hollywood. The information gave Leslie a sense of calm about the summer adventure, except being away from Jesse for two weeks.

Back at the boat, the ever-expanding crowd of friends separated into two groups – adults and kids – while waiting in line to re-board. Tim and Julie looked torn between which set to join, but Tom wisely told them to go with the adults and make sure they didn't plan anything boring for the next day.

"And speaking of tomorrow," Tom said discreetly after a minute, "St. Maarten is _the_ place to go for, _ahem_, C.O. beaches." When Jesse gave him a questioning look, he clarified, "Clothing optional."

"_Tommy!_" Grace said, shaking her head.

"Is he _always_ like this?" Mel asked, though clearly not as put-out as Tom's sister.

"YES!" Jesse and Leslie answered together. Everyone laughed.

"Sorry, Tom, I have plans with Jess," added Leslie, glancing at Grace. "I want to show him something."

"Yeah? Well go to the beach with Mel and me and you can show him all you want." Laughing aloud at his own joke, Tom winked at the older Haskell girl; Mel blushed.

"You are _so_ not going to do that, are you, Mel?" her sister asked.

"I recall hearing that you took a less-than-fully-clothed dip in Miami."

"Well, I don't have much to show off, do I?" _You have enough_, Jesse recalled. "Besides," Mel continued, "Tom will probably be too embarrassed to do anything but lay on his stomach." This brought yet another round of laughter.

"Yeah? We'll see. This is _virgin_ territory for you, too. It will be interesting to see if you have the guts." Smiling triumphantly, Tom put his arm around Mel's shoulder and said more quietly, "We can cancel at any time. It's ok."

"Hmm," was her only answer.

Another show in the Palm Theater that evening followed dinner. This time Tom was more game for the entertainment and _formally_ escorted Mel away before the others, much to the amusement of her parents. Walking to the show, Jesse heard Mr. and Mrs. Haskell tell _his_ parents they thought Melissa had started dating a boy back in Ohio, and couldn't understand her behavior. Listening carefully, he wondered if his parents would spill the beans about Tom. They did, but added their observation that, "Teens date that way now. Besides, Tom's family is moving shortly, so his current girlfriend knows it's a temporary thing."

"Jack, Mary," Al began, pulling the other two adults over to the side in a hushed voice. "They want to go out on their own tomorrow. Do you think we should let them?" Unfortunately, upon receiving a stern look from his father, Jesse had to move on and didn't hear the answer. It was nearly show time when the four adults rejoined them in the theater.

The performance that evening was a one man variety show staring Bobby Curls, a well known comic. Mixing humor, tricks, and more humor, the hour long event was very entertaining...except for one aspect. Shortly after it began, a very drunk, very large woman in the front row began heckling the entertainer. At first it was funny, Jesse noticed – the woman was absurdly looped and even her husband had difficulty keeping her quiet. On stage, Bobby teased the woman mercilessly whenever she made a comment to him, and even the woman's husband joined in the laughter. But after thirty minutes the woman had used up the entertainer's patience and it was clear he was getting annoyed that she had not been removed. Finally, after the drunk woman blurted out the punch line of one of his jokes, Curls put his hands on his hips and waited for the room to be silent. It only took a few seconds, then he said, "Look lady, I'm trying to do a show here, so leave me alone...I don't jump on _your_ bed when you're working."

The audience roared, Curls bowed, and the husband finally escorted his wife out of the theater to the applause of all present. Jesse looked at Mr. Haskell, who Mel had said was vehemently opposed to public drunkenness, and saw him unsuccessfully stifling a smile.

Though everyone was tired from the past two days of activity, no one was ready to call it an evening. Tim escorted Julie to her room so she could let her family know she would be out longer. Her bodyguard followed at a tolerable distance. They picked up bathing suits and headed to the hot tubs by the pools. The five teens decided to visit _Teen Time _for a while and ended up staying up until eleven o'clock playing Guitar Hero and arcade games, ending with a late run for pizzas. They just made their midnight curfew.

"Gracie," Tom called to his sister, "be sure to let Jess know which bed you'll be in tonight."

The girls laughed. And it did not matter, Jesse was too tired for anything but sleep, or so he thought. Tom ended up talking for almost an hour, a very interesting hour, Jesse thought.

"Your parents said Mel and I can go out on our own tomorrow. You and Les want to meet us at the beach?"

"No...well, yes, but you two go ahead." Then Jesse smiled. "Get me a couple pictures of Mel, ok?"

"Ha! I knew it. You _are_ corruptible, Aarons."

"Nah, just curious."

Tom lay back on his bed and was silent for a minute. "Doesn't matter. Mel said if we _do_ go I wasn't allowed to bring the camera."

"Yeah, and Les talks more than she thinks some times. She doesn't dare do _that_ in public places."

The reference to the Miami Paparazzi made Tom frown. "Oh, yeah, I forgot. Too bad for you."

"It's not like that, Tom."

"Like what?"

"I'm not trying to put us in that position."

"I know, Jess," Tom said with a trace of genuine understanding. "You're too Catholic."

Jesse shrugged. "Maybe."

Another long pause followed. The next sound Jesse heard was Tom snoring.

* * *

"Leslie?"

The female voice from her partly opened bedroom door made Leslie jump. She was hoping Jesse would stop by, but it was his mother.

"I'm awake, Mrs. Aarons."

"Leslie, would you come out here, please? I need to speak with you." Half a minute later the two were sitting at the dining room table. "What are you and Jess doing tomorrow?"

"We really hadn't made any definite plans, Mrs. Aarons. Maybe the beach in the morning, before it gets too hot, then a walk around the town."

The answer seemed to relax Mary Aarons.

"Leslie, Jesse's father and I don't want you two visiting any, uh, clothing optional beaches. Especially if _you_ plan to…you know, go optional." Red in the face, Mrs. Aarons was unusually and uncommonly embarrassed and stopped to think. Leslie's eyes widened as the words registered, but she did not have an opportunity to say anything. "Sweetheart, please be very careful with…Please don't think that it's ok to…Jesse's father and I don't think he's ready to take that step with you. Do you understand, Leslie?"

She did, and stuttered through what she fervently hoped were her final words on the subject. "Yes ma'am, I do. Jesse and I t-talked about it…" Then her focus seemed to shift, and for the briefest moment a smile lit the young blonde's face. "It's hard sometimes, Mrs. Aarons, but I promised Jess to, eh, you know, not push him."

It was clear to Mary that Leslie was both mortified and exhausted. She gave her a quick hug and sent her back to bed saying, "Leslie, we all love you."

The teen smiled tiredly and returned to her room. She was asleep nearly as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Revision 1.1, August, 2008


	5. Chapter 52: The Compensation, Part 4

**The Brink  
Part 5**  
**Chapter 52 – The Compensation (Part 4)**  
(Please read and review, it makes us better writers.)

_Disclaimer: The world of Terabithia belongs to Katherine Paterson and her publishers.  
I'm just playing around in it for a while. No profit was, or will be received from this story._

_This chapter is rated MATURE for the usual stuff: Bathroom talk and some frank conversations  
about human anatomy. Please read the corresponding chapter in  
__A LIFE RESCUED if you think you might be offended._

When Jesse woke Thursday morning, he was surprised to see Tom sitting on the edge of his bed, fidgeting nervously with his backpack. The soon-to-be sixteen year old, usually calm, cool and collected, gave every sign of being in a panic. Jesse watched him for a minute before speaking; when he did, Tom jumped.

"What's wrong with you this morning? Are we docked yet?"

"_Shit_, Jess, don't scared me like that," Tom blurted out, nearly falling off the bed and on to the floor. Just then the ship lurched slightly. "Yeah, I'd say we're docked now. See you later."

"Hang on. What's wrong? Is Mel ok?"

"Yeah," he replied - a little too quickly.

"Bull. What's going on? Sit down," he ordered. Tom did.

"Last night she told me she was going to do it."

"_Do what?_"

"You know," he pulled up his t-shirt revealing his chest, "at the beach..."

Sitting up, Jesse scratched his head and rubbed his face. "_Oh_. So what? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yeah," Tom answered with little conviction.

"Right. Then do something else..."

"I feel like I'm corrupting her. Like Terri Keane."

Jesse sighed. "Tom, she wasn't corrupt, she was abused, and by her parents, not you."

"I know, I mean with the pictures and all that. Maybe I _am_ a pervert."

Not knowing what to say, Jesse remained silent. Tom did, too. After a few minutes their phone rang. Suspecting it was Mel, Jesse answered. "Hi...yeah, he's just being slow...sure, I'll tell him...have fun today...bye." Placing the phone back on the cradle, Jesse knew he needed to push his friend. "Tom, Mel will be up here in a few minutes. Whatcha going to do?"

"Hide?"

"No way. Just go and have fun. You don't have to look if it bothers you."

That suggestion brought forth an amused grunt. "I guess. Ok, see you this afternoon." With his dilemma still obviously unresolved, the older teen got up and headed for the door.

"Hey, why don't we meet for lunch at that sandwich place Vanessa told us about. If you're still uncomfortable we can all do something together."

"Ok," replied Tom more eagerly, and obviously expecting to need the assistance.

Jesse scribbled out the name and address of the sandwich shop. Tom took it, shoved it into his backpack, and with a wave left the room. Jesse got up, brushed his teeth, dressed, and went to Leslie and Grace's room to walk with them to breakfast. He didn't make it that far, however, as the girls were in the living room. Grace was helping Leslie review her lines for the musical which was only a few weeks away.

"Sorry, Jess," Leslie said, waving from across the room. "I haven't looked at this stuff for a week. Mr. Stamper will kill me if I come home and miss a bunch of lines."

Jesse nodded and went to the kitchen. Grabbing some orange juice and a banana, he sat and watched the girls. It only took them twenty minutes to finish, then they left for the restaurant. Returning at nine, Jesse - and more so Leslie - were annoyed to learn that Tim and Julie had 'suddenly' shown an interest in joining them for the morning. And while he wasn't _certain_, Jesse _was_ suspicious of meddling by his parents: Leslie had told him the gist of the conversation with his mother the night before. But even more than the perceived lack of trust, what bothered Jesse and Leslie most was the fact that Julie's presence meant a bodyguard and a small army of photographers would very likely ruin any chance at privacy.

As nine approached, the actress, her guard named Joe, Tim, Jesse and Leslie bid farewell to the parents and exited the boat. Julie was somewhat disguised with amber sunglasses and a scarf around her head, and the four were able to make it through Philipsburg customs with no apparent problems. Then catching a taxi, they journeyed up the east coast to Dawn Beach and ran off to rent snorkeling equipment. By ten o'clock all were enjoying one of the best spots on the island for underwater marine life. Julie, again, could hardly be dragged from the water when the mandatory break-period whistle sounded at eleven, and she was even more reluctant to leave the ocean when she saw a group of photographers gathering in the parking lot. Tim threw his towel over her head and pretended to dry her hair, but it was too late. The next time they looked up, five men and two women were trotting their way carrying assorted video and still photography equipment. Julie made a disgusted sound as her bodyguard fruitlessly tried to keep the pests at bay. Then they noticed Leslie. Tim and Jesse grimaced at each other, shaking their heads; no one had any backup plan.

"How did they find me so easily?" griped Julie.

"You're too pretty to hide, Jules," Tim said. Julie, however, was not in the mood for a compliment and looked like she might push her friend away as he tried to apologize.

But Jesse had another idea and told the others to wait for him. Sprinting off towards the row of shops and vendors he returned shortly, but with a glum face. The four huddled out of earshot from the photographers as Jesse told of his idea. "But they don't accept the ship passes for payment. Sorry."

Julie, however, was not so easily discouraged and told them to gather their things. As they did, her guard tried to discover her plan, but she refused to tell him. Two minutes later they were at the rental shop for jet skis where Julie used a credit card to rent two machines for the day. Then quietly saying something to the shop manager, Jesse noticed her slip the man a one hundred dollar bill. He took it greedily and called for two of his employees to get life vests and the machines. Before Jesse knew, they were on the jet skis, he with Tim and Leslie behind Julie. Back on the beach, the bodyguard and photographers argued with the rental manager, but his reply, though not audible, was perfectly clear: We won't have any more machines ready for a while. The hundred dollars had done its work.

As soon as the four were away from the beach, Julie pulled up next to Tim and told him to follow. Without further instructions she gunned her engine and took off across the smooth water at full speed, turning left at the point of the bay, heading north. Jesse could only hope Leslie's breakfast didn't end up on Julie's back.

Fifteen minutes and a few miles later, Julie took them in to the shore, landing at a small, hidden beach.

"When I was here last year we discovered this place," she explained. Jesse wondered if Tim was trying to determine who she had discovered it with, but the young woman anticipated the unspoken question. "My _family_ picnicked here a couple times," she said blandly. Then she gave Tim a not too friendly smile – a warning – _Don't get possessive, we're only together a few days._ Jesse felt embarrassed for his friend, but it passed quickly as the beauty and solitude of the cove captured his attention.

Beaching the jet skis securely, Julie spoke again. "We'll have privacy here, or we can head further north to Orient Bay, but that's all nude beaches and I know you guys wouldn't enjoy it."

Leslie barked out a loud laugh. Tim gave Julie a saccharine smile. Jesse tried to maintain a neutral expressing but it only made him look constipated.

"Let's stay here for a while," Leslie finally said. "We'll have to leave in an hour or so for lunch anyway." The others agreed and moved the jet skis next to some driftwood to make them less conspicuous. Then they set two of their beach towels on the sand and headed into the water. Jesse and Leslie splashed into the chilly ocean first, both hesitating when the water approached more sensitive areas of their body. Tim and Julie, obviously less inhibited, dove right in and swam out in the shallow water.

"So what's this you wanted to show me, Les?" Jesse asked as they held hands and swung each other around in slow, lazy circles. He felt mesmerized by his best friend in her new bathing suite, almost dizzy as he unabashedly looked her over: It hid very little, especially when wet.

"Oh, that's right. Look."

Releasing hands, Leslie sat on a nearby rock and lifted her right leg out of the shallow water. Jesse looked on a few seconds, still unsure. "Yeah, so what is it?"

"Jess! Look…here." She pointed to her ankle. Squinting in the bright sun, Jesse finally saw a small, bright red heart with a black border tattooed on her otherwise flawless and tanned skin.

"You got a _tattoo_?" he asked, obviously not believing what his girlfriend had done. "When?"

"Tuesday morning, when Grace and Claire and I went out. Like it?"

"Um…it's ok, I guess."

"I thought of you when I chose it." She leaned over and kissed him.

"I must rate pretty low. A tiny tattoo on your ankle?"

Unsure if Jesse was serious, Leslie stood with her arms akimbo. "I could have gotten it on my butt or breast, but then you'd _never_ see it," she said mockingly.

Immediately regretting his words and seeming lack of interest, Jesse tried to fix the situation.

"Les, it's not that! I just…well, you're, you know, um…you're pretty the way you are. You don't need anything else."

With a suspicious look, Leslie eased up. "Ok, sorry…I mean thanks. You know, you're very good at talking your way out of things. But you really don't like it?"

"You got it now; not much I can do about it, is there?"

"Well," she hedged, "it's not _real_. It's a henna tattoo. It'll wear off in a couple months."

"Oh, ok." And as if the conversation had never taken place, they returned to playing in the water. After a while, Jesse suggested they get lunch. "I told Tom we'd meet him at that sandwich place Vanessa told us about. We should probably get going soon."

Tim and Julie saw their younger friends wave them in and arrived before either had finished drying off. Leslie elbowed Jesse and he turned to mention meeting Tom and Mel for lunch, but that wasn't why she had poked him. Instead, he found himself almost face to face with the young woman, bare from the waist up, casually drying herself. Jesse glanced at Tim and saw his face was slightly red; when he turned back to Julie, he saw Leslie was watching him watch her. Unable to speak, Jesse backed away, grabbed his things, and headed for the jet skis. Leslie followed. When she reached him she could tell he was breathing hard.

"You ok, Jess?"

"Um, yeah. Seeing that from a distance is one thing, up close is, um, different."

Trying to calm her boyfriend down, Leslie placed her hand softly on Jesse's arm. "Jess, you've seen girls up close. Claire was practically in your face the first time we saw her."

"Yeah, but Claire wasn't, um, stacked like _that_."

Leslie conceded the point. "Ok, Julie has a lot more on top…and if you're so embarrassed why do you keep glancing back at her?"

Jesse shrugged. "Just curious," he admitted. "Remember in France? Back then I thought all girls looked the same, um, their boobs. Except size. They aren't, are they?"

Wrapping her arms around Jesse, Leslie laughed softly. "No, not at all _breasts_ are the same. I thought all guys looked at magazines, you know, like Playboy. Those women are very different."

Stunned, Jesse asked, "You've looked at a Playboy?"

"Once. I get curious, too."

"That kind of stuff is gross. It's pornographic," he nearly spat out.

"Jesse Aarons! It is _not_ pornographic. And dad says it's probably the cleanest of all those men's magazines."

Groaning, Jesse took one last glance and saw Julie putting her top back on. She saw him this time and said, "Sorry, Jess, I didn't mean to traumatize you. But now you can say you saw a movie star topless. Just don't say which one." And with a friendly smile, she helped Tim collect the rest of their things.

"Jess, we can be more careful," whispered Leslie, "if you want. I really didn't know Julie was going to go topless. I thought your parents sent them with us to keep us away from that."

"Yeah, I guess," he admitted. To himself, however, Jesse Aarons found that he actually felt calmer than he would have thought. _Am I becoming desensitized?_ he thought. _Probably not…_

A short jet ski ride brought the two couple to the southern edge of Orient Bay, and all four immediately saw the beach fully lived up to its reputation. But there was also an aspect about the location that none of them had considered: clothing optional applied to females _and_ males. For the first time in her life, Leslie was confronted with a plethora of mature male appendages. Her reaction was not wholly different than Jesse's – just less obvious - and her boyfriend enjoyed a moment of dour satisfaction seeing Leslie's look of shock and awe. He was saved from further embarrassment by the quick thinking Julie who took Leslie's arm and led the teen off in a safer direction. For the first time that day, Jesse was glad for their chaperones.

They soon found Tom and Mel at _Z-Best Sandwiches_, a ramshackle looking establishment run by a beautiful blonde woman and three only slightly less stunning assistants. The crowd of patrons attested to the establishment's reputation. The two groups greeted each other and plodded glumly to end of the huge line, wondering how long they would have to wait for service. It was not very long at all. When they realized the place sold only one type of sandwich, the reason for the brief wait for food was illuminated. Lunches in hand, the three couples found a picnic table and sat to eat, except Julie, who, with a grimace, phoned her guard and told him where they were.

"Joe will be here in a few minutes. Sorry everyone; I hate it a lot more than you do."

Mumbling through a mouthful of food, Tom asked if he always had to be around her. Julie nodded in disgust. "Joe or Raul, seven by twenty-four." Then biting into her sandwich, she made a face. "I _hate_ bean sprouts. Yuck!"

"Are you making any movies now?" Leslie asked the actress as she spit a mouthful of the green and white flora into her napkin and wiped the rest off of the sandwich.

"No, I'm taking a break for college. I'll be done next May; then I'll start auditioning again." With her next bite, Julie made another face. Jesse wondered if she liked anything.

Through lunch, the six took turns sharing stories about their life – getting to know each other better. Julie and Mel sighed dramatically, placing a hand over their heart, when Leslie told how Jesse had saved her from drowning. Tom complained about leaving Lark Creek in a few months. Tim spoke of how he loved their farm in Ohio. Mel said just the opposite. Julie talked about anything _except_ Hollywood, even to the point of snapping at Tom when he asked how she got started in the business. But with the cruise more than half over, Jesse felt funny – and wondered if the others did too – getting to know people they would probably never see again. He liked Tim, Mel and Julie, but a gnawing resistance seemed to be forcing a wedge between him and these new friends. That, coupled with the age differences, was locking down Jesse's disinterest in associating with anyone but Leslie.

As the meal progressed, Tom and Mel were drifting off into a world of their own, by the looks they were giving each other and their near constant physical contact. The air of uncertainty that hung over his friend earlier in the day was gone and he appeared more satisfied than ever with his new – temporary - girlfriend. Jesse wondered how that would play out in a few days. But his mind was more preoccupied with the ever confusing demands of adolescence, peer pressure, and dealing with his best friends' focus on life events that were of a lower priority to himself.

Particularly Leslie's interests.

For the first time in a year, Jesse seriously wondered if his life _before_ the discovery of his mental illness issues had been better. How the tearing apart of different aspects of his personality had come about was becoming far less ambiguous – and he was tempted to let himself sink into that same comfortable abyss: Let his mind unravel….

He felt a hand on his arm. "Jess? You still with me?" It was Leslie, he saw, as his eyes opened and focused. Their picnic table had been cleared and the others were walking towards the ocean. "We're going back to that other beach, if we can all fit on the two jet skis. And you need more lotion, your shoulders are a little red."

The smooth, cool lotion on his neck and back completed the process of waking up. Leslie's soft hands, so wonderfully familiar now, comforted and calmed him. In a few minutes the hot sub-tropical air, the smell of the salty sea, and the proximity to sights and sounds of the clear blue ocean had un-fogged Jesse's mind. He felt invigorated and ready to move on. In the recesses of his mind, his subconscious carefully tucked away doubts and cares…for a time.

* * *

Back in seclusion, Jesse and Leslie walked to the south point of land overlooking the small private beach Julie had shown them that morning. Their other four friends had plunged into the water as soon as the jet skis were secured, but Jesse wanted some quiet time with Leslie. This was the last few hours on the islands before returning to Miami and neither – Jesse most of all – wanted to miss the view not visible from sea level. Sitting under a palm tree, Leslie leaned into her friend and he comfortably put his arm around her shoulder.

"You're going to hate leaving, aren't you, Jess?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.

"The mountains are beautiful, but this is like magic. I wish we were staying overnight. I bet the sky is clear and the stars bright when all the lights are out."

Leslie laughed and squeezed Jesse's hand. "There you go again, getting romantic on me." Jesse started to protest but was overridden. "I think it would be great, too. Maybe we'll come back here some day."

"Mm-hmm…maybe."

"Maybe? Why not just you and me?" Jesse's body language began shouting _slower_ to Leslie. "When we're older, I mean," she added quickly and he relaxed some, admitting it _would_ be nice.

Leslie sighed to herself, gave up trying to sound romantic, and refocused on the last couple hours on the island. She pulled out a map and both flipped onto their stomach to see if anything interesting was within walking distance, but they were too isolated. Instead, they returned to the beach and collected some shells and coral to take home as gifts. In the distance, Julie and Tim were swimming and talking and splashing; the actress again without her top. Mel and Tom had left the water and were nowhere to be seen, but hints of their laughing voices could just be heard on the other side of the small coral and sand rise. Jesse and Leslie headed that way.

Approaching, Jesse stopped and asked, "Do you think they're, um, you know, _decent_?" Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend, Leslie shook her head and didn't bother to answer, instead she took his hand and led on.

The two friends were lying on the beach a hundred yards away, their heads propped up with piles of sand, and talking. Just talking. As they approached and called out, it was plain to see – even from a distance - that Mel had shed her top, and was comfortable with the change. In fact, she was obviously more comfortable about it that Tom – and a lot more comfortable about it than Jesse who waved stiffly and tried to head back.

"Jess, cut it out," Leslie said under her breath. "If Mel is self-conscious about herself she'll cover-up." At that moment their friend did just that. When she had secured her top, she and Tom jumped up and met them. Jesse immediately began to apologize for interrupting, but Mel dismissed him, thumbing back towards their spot on the beach.

"We saw some people walking this way and were about to get up. I think they have cameras."

Leslie growled out something that sounded vaguely obscene and ran to warn Tim and Julie. She made it just in time and their last hour ashore was occupied with avoiding the small swarm of press and photographers. Defeated, the six returned to port on the jet skis and retreated to the safety of the liner. Julie met Joe at the gangway, gave him an evil look, and turned to the others. "Join us for dinner? It's formal tonight." Jesse hesitated, not knowing if Julie was being polite or really wanted to get together with a bunch of teens five years younger than she or Tim. But Leslie accepted and the actress looked pleased. She gave everyone a hug, Tim a kiss, and walked off, Joe trailing, for her cabin.

When they returned to the suite, Jesse and Leslie separated, showered, and met again in the living room and began a game of checkers: Tom was just returning from walking Mel to her cabin and Mr. and Mrs. Aarons also appeared. Jesse noticed that Leslie had already applied another seasickness patch and took pity on her poor checkers playing ability, letting her _almost_ win. And more than once, he noticed his mother give Leslie a suspicious look, but he chalked it up to her – apparent – growing interest in their relationship. He wondered if he should talk to her about it but decided to wait until they returned home.

At dinner that evening, the Lark Creek gang and the Haskells formally met Julie's family. The overriding feeling Jesse gathered from the actresses parents – Wayne and Marie - was one of suspicion; the reason for that was soon made clear.

Through the appetizer and salad courses, Mr. Summers, a man who was difficult to picture as the father of such a pretty young woman, spoke only in clipped, terse snippets to his wife and daughter. Mrs. Summers looked embarrassed by her husband's behavior, but while waiting for the main course, Julie explained the tension. "It turns out that my _bodyguard,_ Joe, was leaking our location to the press on the island. That's how they knew where we were this afternoon." Then more discreetly to Tim, "Mom and Dad would've freaked if they'd gotten any pictures of me…or us." Smiling, she playfully poked her friend in the ribs and then returned to the general conversation around the table.

Jesse noticed that Mel – and Tim to some extent - looked horrified at this news, and he knew why: Mel would never have _indulged_ herself on a public beach if she thought cameras would be present. Seeing their daughter posted on the internet or in some tabloid would have crushed them. Turning to his own girlfriend, he saw Leslie looked ashen; whether due to seasickness or the story he did not bother to ask. Tom merely looked angry.

"So Raul has a full-time job now?" Jesse heard Tim ask.

"No, we fired him, too," Julie said with more than a little semblance of delight. The reason was obvious, she would be free of their omnipresence. Too late for this cruise, but it promised a less restrictive future for the young woman.

Near the end of dinner the cruise director announced the activities for the evening: Theatrical performances, more adult entertainment in a lounge (Jesse and Tom looked at each other and shook their head), a movie, ice sculpting, another midnight poolside party, and the comedian from the first day aboard ship, Karl Lanks, performing a late-night routine. To the relief of the younger ones present the adults didn't put any restrictions on what they did, together or individually, and the Aarons, Haskells, and Summers parents disappeared for some unknown part of the ship. The only limitation for the teens was to not stay up all night. Jack also gave his son a long, severe look as he left with his wife.

Tim and Julie went off to be on their own after thanking their friends for joining them for dinner. Tom winked and commented to Jesse that Tim looked especially delighted with the prospect of having time alone with his new friend.

Grace and Claire started to talk the others into joining them at _Teen Time_ until two boys they'd met earlier came up and asked them to go to the movies with them. Giggling like young girls they ran off to change and meet their "dates."

"So, um, you guys want to do something...together?" Jesse asked.

"Les and I had some plans," Mel said. "You two want to join us?" she added, with a impish smile that made the boy's breathe faster and nod stupidly. They followed the girls back to the cabin where they disappeared to change; the boys did likewise, not having noticed that Mel must have planned this earlier if her clothes were already in Leslie's room.

With a mouth full of toothpaste foam, Jesse asked, "So wha' da you thin' we're gonna do?"

"Does it matter?" laughed Tom. A muffled _no_ sounded from the bathroom followed by Jesse walking back into the room and pulling on a clean t-shirt. Tom disappeared for his turn cleaning up right before Leslie danced in and curled up in a chair. Jesse, wiping his face with a towel, smiled, winked at his girlfriend and asked Tom, "Did you get your wish...um, at the beach?"

"What wish?"

"'I'd like to get my hands on Mel's fun bags,'" Jesse mimicked. He looked at Leslie and mimed an exaggerated laugh. Leslie shook her head and rolled her eyes.

But the response from behind the closed door was uncharacteristically blasé: "Yeah, a little. They were...uh, strange...different."

This caught Jesse's attention. "_What?_ How strange can they be? They're just boobs."

Tom elaborated: "Let's just say…they look better under wraps than out in the open."

"Huh?"

"You want the details, Jess?" Tom said a little sharply, clearly torn between the excitement of bragging about another conquest and some incomprehensible complication. But he didn't wait for an answer and explained further. "She's a little…lopsided."

"'Lopsided'? Like, one boob's bigger than the other?"

Having momentarily forgotten his girlfriend was present, Jesse was reminded by a jab in his thigh. Unaware of the guest, however, Tom continued. "Yeah, sorta...more in shape than size. I mean, I guess it's not a big deal; it just surprised me. Nice nips, though," he ended with a very satisfied smirk the other two couldn't see.

"'Nice nips'? Jeez, Tom! What difference does _that_ make?"

"_Jesse!_" Leslie spat warningly. Tom returned to the room and saw Leslie. With a very non-concerned wave, he turned to Jesse and shook his head in a very _You poor, misguided, luckless boy_ sort of way, told him to sit. "Look, the nips are the best part. Know what my dad calls them?"

Jesse cringed. "No, but I'm sure you'll tell us."

"All day suckers."

With this jewel of trivia, Leslie got up and left the room. The boys just shrugged.

"All day suckers... You're _kidding_...aren't you?" Jesse finally asked. He had often thought about exploring that area of Leslie – certainly more than the casual brushes he'd made - but his experience in life up to this point had told him that that part of the female was pretty-much exclusively for babies. "What'd you do? Kissed them?"

Tom laughed. "Yeah, among other things. They're bigger than the twins', too, so there's more to latch on to. And you can actually see them!"

Even more confused, and feeling woefully undereducated in female anatomy, Jesse sat speechless, with a look of frustration. Tom sighed and prepared to offer yet another sex-education lesson.

"Jess, you know how the twins and the Keanes all have real light skin?" He nodded. "Usually girls with fair skin have light colored nips. The only way I could tell I touched Lisa or Carol's is by the texture of the skin. It's pretty cool, but I like Mel's, they're kinda reddish-brown; her skin and hair are darker."

Jesse digested this piece of anatomical trivia, and thinking back on the times he'd seen the items in question at beaches realized his friend was mostly correct.

"Does that mean…?" he began, then checked himself. The truth was, he couldn't wait to really see what Leslie's looked like. Her having light blonde hair and average skin coloration suggested, as did her wet bathing suit earlier in the day, that hers were in between. Then silently chastising himself for letting curiosity and lust override his carefully controlled thoughts, Jesse muttered a very non-committal "We'll see," and left the room to find the girls. Tom followed.

An hour later, having looked through all the interesting parts of the ship they had not yet visited, Tom, Jesse, Mel and Leslie found themselves returning to the semi-privacy of the lifeboat deck and another heavy make-out session that left all four teens sweating and Mel again suggesting they find an empty cabin. Jesse, like last time, went along, ignoring the warnings his conscience was throwing at him. He knew they would not be returning to the Haskell's cabin, which meant his and Tom's. Taking Leslie's hand, he led the way.

Through the corridors, on his left shoulder, _Bad Jesse_ was prompting him to accept whatever Leslie offered in the way of an early birthday present; on his right, _Good Jesse_ was working frantically to shore-up the rapidly failing wall of morals he had spent so many years building. It was clearly a losing effort. However, upon entering the suite, the four teens came face-to-face with the six adults lounging in the spacious living room and their immediate plans were dashed.

Leslie elbowed Jesse to not say anything, but it was too late. "Hi, um, we're just going to our, um, room."

"_To change!"_ Leslie nearly shouted. "I mean, the boys are. Can we use the hot tub?"

Six suspicious pairs of eyes watched the boys trip over themselves on the way to their room. The girls, hardly more graceful, went to Leslie's. Jack gave his wife a knowing look and started to get up, but Mary took his hand and he reluctantly returned to his seat. The other two couples tried to act distracted but failed. Wayne suggested they find their daughter but _his_ wife reminded him she and Tim were adults. The six parents glanced at each other, each entertaining similar thoughts: _Teens!_

So the balance of the evening was spent chatting in the hot tub or beside it on the lounge chairs. The suite's cook, hardly used over the past five days, proved his worth by splitting his time and talent between the two groups. There was never a want for drinks or snacks of the highest quality. As midnight approached, he even cooked up ten small, made-to-order individual omelets and served them with Champaign. The teens were delighted when allowed a single glass each.

With the ship quieting down for the night, Jack and Mary headed to bed after their older guests bade all good night. Mel was given a one o'clock curfew in spite of all possible pleading and begging, so she and Tom glumly took a blanket and went out to the starboard balcony for a half-hour together, alone. Jesse and Leslie did the same, on the port side, cuddling together as they had the previous nights, wrapped in each other's arms. When they heard Mel leave, with Tom as an escort, it was also time for them to get to bed. Jesse gave his girlfriend one last, long passionate kiss, savoring the lingering taste of Champagne in her mouth and on her lips.

Much to his surprise, however, Leslie broke away sooner than expected. She looked him in the eyes while resting her forehead against his.

"Jess, I haven't ruined this trip for you, have I?"

Taken aback, Jesse looked away as he tried to imagine what would make Leslie say such an odd thing, but she misread the motion and started to apologize. Jesse brought that to an abrupt halt.

"No! I was only wondering why you would think that. I couldn't imagine doing this with, um, anyone else...Besides, no one else's father would be crazy enough to send a bunch of people on a cruise he couldn't take."

"That's true," Leslie breathed out in relief. "I was afraid I had been putting too much pressure on you to, you know..."

"Yeah, I know." He paused. "Les, why _are_ you doing that?"

"Don't you want to…" she started to ask in an injured tone.

"_Yes_, Les, I _do_. That should be _obvious_. We've talked about this before, why do you keep bringing it up?"

"That's just it, Jess: If we both want it…to do…something, why not? We don't have to have intercourse." Slightly frustrated, Leslie moved away and sat in another chair. "But, well, don't _you_ feel ready for more? On the make-out scale of one to ten, we're at about one point five."

"Two."

"Huh?"

Jesse laughed. "I think we've made it to two."

"Oh, _ha, ha_, very funny. I'm serious."

"So am I. You think we can just walk casually down an icy hill without falling?"

Leslie was taken aback by the analogy but quickly recovered. "Where'd you hear that one from? My mother?"

Not willing to take the bait, Jesse ignored the thinly veiled sarcasm. "No, but it's _true_, Les. Besides…"

There was another long pause while Jesse thought of what to say, but he couldn't find the words. This was highly uncommon when he talked to Leslie about serious matters, but she could see he was troubled by something and it softened her.

"Jess, I feel like I'm offering you something important and you're refusing it."

"I know," he replied after a long minute. "But…Les, I'm…afraid."

"Of me?"

"No! Of ruining what we have."

Leslie sat back heavily in her chair, and with a sad, almost frightened voice, said, "Did you ever think that doing _nothing_ might ruin what we have?"

"Um…No." Sighing, he paused again, trying to think of what to say. "Les…" He was about to say, _Love is patient_, when he realized a truth he'd failed to see for a long time: Leslie had not dropped out of the RCIC program because of disinterest, she'd dropped out because of a moral impasse. She could not reconcile the Church's teachings with her own needs and desires. And he had been pushing her deeper and deeper into this quandary instead of helping her find an answer. If there was one.

"There is one…" Jesse said aloud.

"A what?"

"Come here, please?" He patted the lounge chair next to himself where she had sat minutes before. With a confused look, Leslie got up and sat with him again.

A long silence ensued. Eventually Leslie turned on to her side and backed into Jesse, letting him spoon up to her. His hands wrapped around her body – one under her neck the other around her waist. The blanket almost warmed her enough: Jesse's arms made up the rest and he nuzzled his face into her hair. She felt the rough stubble of a few young whiskers grate against her scar and it gave her a shock. As Jesse relaxed, so did she, and in an unexpected, unrehearsed and unhesitant movement, he slipped his left hand from her stomach upwards. It was the most electrifying moment in Leslie's life. Jesse thought it was pretty nice, too.

After a few minutes, Leslie suggested they go back in, but instead, he clung to her and they drifted off to sleep as the cool March night deepened around them and the last sounds of partying faded away.

* * *

Jesse stirred as the eastern sky was just beginning to show signs of the approaching dawn. The cold morning air and wind circulating in the cavity of their port balcony's enclosure had drowned out the crashing of heavy swells breaking against the hull of the liner. The slight pitch and roll of the ship, insignificant to almost everyone aboard, felt like much more to a few, and it was the sound of Leslie retching that awoke Jesse fully. His best friend was partly draped over the balcony railing, obviously having forgotten there was another private – and hopefully unoccupied one – just a deck below.

Jesse sprung up, shaking off the aches from sleeping in a deck chair, and helped Leslie to her bathroom. While she was cleaning up, he quietly looked through the room for her stash of seasickness patches, eventually finding them on Grace's nightstand. Still bleary-eyed, it took him a couple seconds to notice Grace's bed hadn't been slept in that night. A mixture of dread, jealousy, and annoyance occupied his thoughts as he gave Leslie the patch. Then, guiding the swaying girl to her bed he left abruptly to find their friend, wondering why his father hadn't checked-up on her.

The answer lay partially hidden - and sleeping - on one of the large sofas in the living room. Grace was wrapped in a blanket she had copped from one of the rooms, but stirred as Jesse flopped into a nearby chair in relief.

"Hey, Jess," his friend said in a mumble; then she yawned and sat up, stretching. When more awake, Grace ran off to her room, asking Jesse to wait for her, and returned a minute later, sitting on the couch.

"You scared me, Gracie," Jesse admonished when the girl returned. "I was in your room and your bed hadn't been slept in."

_In my room? For how long?_ "Uh, sorry. I got in late and didn't want to wake Les."

Jesse laughed. "Wouldn't have mattered, we fell asleep on the balcony." Grace arched her eyebrows and gave her friend a curious, penetrating look. The reply was mostly accurate. "Yes, and that was all we did: Sleep." Another mostly accurate statement. Trying to change the subject, Jesse asked what she and Claire had done the night before.

"Not much. We saw that movie then went up to _Teen Time_ for a couple hours to play Guitar Hero, and they had a casino night with fake money, but if you won you could bid on prizes. It was fun. That ended at midnight and then we walked around the ship a while."

"Just you and Claire?" asked Jesse, now giving his friend a penetrating look. Seeing Grace blush, he ventured another comment. "Was he as good as that Eric guy from last summer?"

Grace threw a pillow at Jesse, but laughed – and blushed more. "Yes, he was." Then, ducking her head a little, she continued. "And he, uh, liked to use his h-hands a lot more, too."

Jesse, until that point thinking he might go back to bed, instantly lost all sensation of sleepiness.

_Did she just suggest…?_

"Are you ok, Gracie? Did he _hurt_ you?"

"Of course I'm ok. We didn't _do_ anything…much."

"Uh-huh. Then why are you blushing?"

Preparing to throw another pillow, Grace stood instead and stumbled around the table. Reaching Jesse's chair, she plopped into it next to him. There wasn't much room.

"Jesse Aarons," she began defensively. "I'm fourteen and a half and perfectly able to take care of myself. Don't start acting big-brotherly." Then pausing, Grace finished with a laugh: "Are you jealous?"

Jesse _was_ a little jealous, in fact, but it was not for the same reason as Grace believed it was. Seeing so many friends explore their sexuality left him feeling humiliated in front of his friend. Humiliated and discouraged. And to him, Grace had always been the pillar of virtue among his closest acquaintances, and her seeming willingness to remain chaste was the one aspect of her personality most attractive to him. He wondered if that was now disappearing, leaving him behind. Obsolete.

Grace, however, was not thinking along those same lines. In fact, her activities the evening before went little beyond some playful groping and a single, bold, intimate caress. It was condoned more so she could converse knowingly about some level of intimacy than for pleasure – although there _was_ a jolt of that! With only a few weeks remaining before her move to Northern Virginia, Grace wondered, too, if she was unconsciously making one final play for Jesse Aarons. It still never occurred to her that her actions might turn him _off_ more than turn him _on_. But whatever the future held, she knew, it was not going to be her and Jesse as a couple. And ruining her friendship with him and Leslie would be stupid and just plain mean.

She turned to Jesse and hugged him briefly, then kissed him on the cheek. "We didn't do much of anything, Jess. No more than you and Les have done." And with a teasing look, she rose and went to her room saying she was going to sleep a couple more hours. Jesse, when the door had closed, moved to the couch Grace had occupied most of the night and wrapped himself in the blanket. As he drifted back to sleep he realized he could smell his younger friend in the covers and pillow. He found it was strangely depressing.

* * *

Most of the Lark Creek natives stumbled into the dining room at about eight, having been awakened by an emergency announcement for a stretcher on the basketball court. Jack, the first to arrive, was surprised to see his son getting up from the couch. He would have sworn he'd seen Grace Jacobs there earlier in the morning. He gave Jesse a confused look, and Jesse laughed, having a good idea what was going through his father's mind.

Last to show up for breakfast on this final full day of the cruise was Leslie. She looked better than Jesse had seen her a few hours before, and had obviously showered and been up for a while. The weather outside was almost clear and the seas calm – this helped her disposition, too. She sat next to Jesse and kissed his cheek.

"Are you sore this morning? I am," she asked innocently.

Tom choked on his mouth full of orange juice, nearly spraying his sister, and Jesse's parents both dropped their spoons. "Oh - no! We fell asleep on the balcony last night, Mr. Aarons, Mrs. Aarons." Neither parent said anything in response, but Jesse was sure they would at some point. Tom threw his friend a quick glance and jumped up to get his omelet from the cook.

Following breakfast, Jesse and Tom started packing, and it didn't take long for the older teen to broach the subject of Leslie's double entendre.

"So, Jess, you got lucky with Leslie last night?"

Jesse's attempt at giving his friend a _none-of-your-business _look fell woefully short.

"Uh huh, I _knew_ it. Did she put on that skimpy two piece for you? Or should I say, did she take it _off_ for you?"

"No, neither, so shut up. I don't want to talk about it."

"Aw, Jess, you're killing me! You promised you'd tell me the first time you two got past first base."

"_I did?_ I think that was the night we had those Vanilla Rums." Trying to end the topic of conversation, Jesse went into the bathroom and pretended to be busy. Tom Jacobs, however, persisted, following his friend. "Hey! Put my wallet down," snapped Jesse, grabbing for it. Too late.

"Ahhhh… The truth is becoming clearer," teased Tom, opening to the center section. In spite of Jesse's protests, the boy looked in significantly and pulled out a condom in its worn and battered wrapping. "So, you were either foolish or not as lucky as I hoped. Ok, Aarons, spill it."

"I told you," he snapped back, grabbing the wallet and leaving Tom holding the old prophylactic, "not much happened."

Unfazed by the denials, Tom leaned back against the wall and smiled. "Jess, I'm your best friend…at least your best _guy_ friend. And, hey, I'm gonna be gone in a few weeks, so take pity on me. What happened? You get to second base?"

Jesse grimaced, but then he smiled.

Tom whooped. "Third base?"

Again, Jesse's face revealed the truth.

"Well, you two will get there, that's obvious. And… How was it?"

Having backed himself into a corner, he made Tom swear to never tell anyone what had happened. Tom nodded impatiently and Jesse told him.

"That was it?"

"Yep."

Tom scratched his head, confused by Jesse's seeming lack of enthusiasm. "Ok, uh, thanks. I guess I'll go finish packing." What Tom could not see was the swirl of joy Jesse felt inside him that morning. The twinges of guilt had long passed.

A while later, Leslie joined Jesse and Tom in their room while Grace washed up and got dressed. All were a little somber at the thought of returning home, but after talking about what they missed, all realized they were actually happier about heading back to Virginia. Strangely, Tom had no plans for seeing Mel that day, neither did his sister for seeing Claire or the boys from the previous night. (Jesse was perfectly happy to hear that.) But it was obvious both Jacobs children would miss their new friends, and Tom acted as if getting back together with the twins and Mikey Sellers was foremost on his mind.

And all four had forgotten that this trip had been planned for them to be together one last time, yet they had spent most of the week apart. Still, in Jesse's mind, he felt closer to Tom and Grace than ever before, though he could not pin down the reason. They had also planned one last hike and campout on the Boone property before the move; perhaps that, Jesse considered, was the reason he was not seeing them as leaving. Yet.

Mid-morning approached and Leslie said she had to practice her lines and songs for the musical, so she and Grace gathered the script and score and headed to the theater where they planned to meet one of the hired actors for some tips. Jesse begged off, asking Tom if he wanted to try to sneak into the casino. Always one for taking a risk, Tom accepted and they changed into their most mature looking clothing. An hour later, Jesse's father was rescuing them from one of the casino bouncers who had caught them - and found the situation highly amusing. Jack Aarons did not.

At lunch, the four teens ran into Tim Haskell and Julie Summers. But the couple, (who were showing absolutely no signs of cooling their week-long fling,) merely waved at them and returned to what appeared to be a very private conversation. The girls sighed and looked mushily at each other, but the boys ignored them.

Mid-afternoon, Jesse's parents informed him that they had invited the two family of friends they'd made for a going-away dinner. Jesse went to his room where the others were playing cards and told them the news. Tom groaned, but the girls were happy.

When the time for their last meal together arrived, the spacious suite felt much more crowded with fourteen people moving about. To Jesse's surprise, and disgust, his parents allowed Tom to have a beer – a single beer – which the fifteen year old proudly carried more than drank. Jack told his son he could rationalize a boy almost sixteen with a single brew, but not one for his fourteen year old son. Mel's parents offered her one, too, but she politely declined. Neither she not Tom had spoken much, but neither did they appear uncomfortable in each other's presence. In fact, Mr. and Mrs. Haskell could be seen, occasionally, prompting their older daughter to talk with her male friend, but she chose Leslie, Grace and Claire instead. When Jesse saw Tom watching one of these exchanges he shrugged.

The going-away dinner was expertly prepared and lasted two hours, the cook bringing out no more than a course or two every ten or fifteen minutes. It was awkward, at first, with everyone so accustomed to rushing through a meal, but the logic of the process was soon apparent: This method fostered more conversation and allowed proper preparation of each dish. In the end, the meal was judged excellent and no one felt as if they had forgotten to say goodbye or express gratitude to any of their new friends.

While packing that evening (the debarkation began at eight o'clock the next morning) Jesse, Tom, Grace and Leslie spoke little. While each was sad to be leaving the Caribbean and their friends, they also knew it was time to go. Living in such close proximity with so many people was starting to grate on nerves – even Grace and Leslie snapped at the other a couple times that evening. Given his choice, Jesse concluded that a week camping in the mountains would have been almost as much fun. When he told this to Leslie she agreed, though neither expressed any regrets.

In the hot tub – for the last time – the six Virginians relaxed one final time. The next day would be hectic, with leaving the ship, getting to the airport, flying back to Roanoke, driving home, and getting ready for school. Leslie was far more anxious about the musical than school and said she understood better why freshmen were seldom picked for a leading roll in high school dramas. Beneath the bubbling water Jesse held her hand reassuringly, caressing her wrist with his thumb, hoping it would calm her. It helped.

When it was time to leave, everyone bade their friends a final goodbye. The girls cried and the boys rolled their eyes. Julie promised Leslie she would have a wonderful time in the acting class and kidded her about meeting in Hollywood in the future. Tom gave Mel an unexpectedly passionate kiss goodbye. Jesse watched on with interest as Tim and Julie acted as though nothing was about to change.

* * *

After a fast breakfast Sunday morning, and a final farewell to their cook and steward, Vanessa met her six guests and escorted them past the huge lines of non-first-class passengers to a private gangway and customs station. They saw nothing of the Haskells or Summers on the way out, but were too busy being rushed about to dwell on it. Besides their luggage, almost everyone had another bag of gifts and souvenirs they were bringing back, Jesse and Leslie carrying the most. A limousine was waiting for them on the docks, and with a quick farewell to Vanessa, they climbed in and headed to the airport.

Sunday morning traffic was very light and it took less than a half hour to reach the terminal. When checked-in, it was only ten o'clock and they had three hours before departure. Mostly they snoozed or talked. Grace lobbied to look for their friends, but Jesse's parents nipped that idea and suggested they all do some school work. Grumbling, the four obeyed, knowing they would get little done after they arrived home. Even Tom went about the business of readjusting, albeit prosaically, all the while shooting disgruntled looks at his sister and friends.

The Boeing 757 landed in Roanoke at exactly three in the afternoon. The brown-grey mountains were a stark contrast to the ever-green tropics so recently seen and its neighboring blue and aquamarine water. Even traveling first class did little to cheer-up the travelers. Quietly, all six sighed sadly as the plane touched down. They were almost home.

Bill, his very pregnant wife, and son, were – unexpectedly - waiting for their daughter and friends as they debarked the airplane. Leslie ran to them, scooping up Jimmy first and then hugging her parents and thanking them copiously. A moment later the others joined her, though Jack gave his neighbor a severe look before smiling and shaking his hand. Mary immediately pulled Judy away to ask about her children.

"It was wonderful being away for a week, but I missed them. Is the house still in one piece?"

"Yes, Mare, everyone's fine. Jealous, perhaps, but fine. Toby and Ellie took good care of everything. Even Bren helped some." This last note made both women laugh.

"How about Anton? Was he a permanent fixture, too?"

Judy's face fell and she led her friend a bit further away from the others. "Yes, until two days ago. He and Toby got into some sort of fight and we haven't seen him since. Brenda and Ellie know what's going on but won't say a word."

"Did Anton and Brenda break up?"

"No, not so far as I can tell. May told me she heard some of the argument and it sounded like they were fighting about the Army."

Shaking her head dolefully, Mary commented about boys and their careers and returned to helping carry things out to the stretch-van Bill had rented. Jimmy insisted on sitting next to Jesse and hearing all about the _big_ boat, so that was the topic of conversation for the next hour, leaving the boy wide-eyed and clutching Jesse's hand affectionately.

Pulling on to the road his family shared with the Burke's, Jesse experienced a sensation he never noticed upon returning from other longer trips away from home: He felt as though he was coming back to someone else's house. Of course, everything looked the same – or at least no one had set fire to the building - but there was something different, something had definitely changed. Whether it was within himself or elsewhere he could not determine. The mountain air smelled so completely different than sea air, or the conditioned air breathed aboard the ship. But there was also an earthy odor Jesse first attributed to spring. It took him a while to discover it was something very different.

Al Jacobs and the balance of the Aarons family, including Toby, met the returning travelers as they pulled up to the house. Mary jumped out first and hugged her kids long and hard; even Jack outdid himself showing affection. Jesse greeted May, Joyce Anne and Brian first, promising each gifts and stories. When he saw Ellie, however, he found her looking behind him. _At Leslie,_ he guessed.

Toby came down from the porch and in short, chopped, succinct phrases, greeted Jack and said some words quietly to him. Mr. Aarons looked surprised but pleased, and then disappeared into the house to answer the ringing telephone.

Leslie and Jesse walked over to Tom and Grace who were talking excitedly with their father. Then the four teens moved the bags into the Jacobs' car, Tom and Grace thanked the Burkes and Aarons again, and said goodbye. They would see each other in fourteen hours at the student drop-off.

Walking Leslie home, Jesse led them on the path by the creek. Both teens were silent until they looked into the woods across the stream and through the bare branches of the trees and brush on the far bank. They let go of each other's hand.

"_What happened?_" asked both at the same time.

* * *

"Mary?" Jack called out a minute after he had finished a long telephone conversation. His wife appeared with everyone except Jesse and Leslie. "That was Mike Haskell. It seems his son and that actress girl ran off on their own after the cruise. No one's seen them since."

_A/N: Again, sorry for the long delay. I can't promise, but I will try to finish up the last few chapters before Christmas._

Revision 1.1, October, 2008


	6. Chapter 54: The Endings

**The Brink  
Part 5**  
**Chapter 54 – The Endings**  
(Please read and review, it makes us better writers.)

_Disclaimer: The world of Terabithia belongs to Katherine Paterson and her publishers.  
I'm just playing around in it for a while. No profit was, or will be received from this story._

__

_Dear readers, it's time to close out this story and let your imaginations run away with the next few years of Jesse Aarons and Leslie Burke's lives. Thank you all so much for the kind words and encouragement over the past sixteen months; I truly appreciate them. There is a brief wrap-up starting about half way through the chapter, a sort of where they are now. _

_I should also note that, in spite of the parallels I draw between my Leslie Burke and AnnaSophia Robb, __in no way do I consider Leslie's actions a representation of AnnaSophia's personality__. __God bless you. Rick (IHateSnakes) December, 2008._

It took Leslie the better part of a week to wind down from the excitement of the spring show; by the last Friday of April she was back to her old self and reveling in the early burst of summer weather which had descended on southwest Virginia. The forecast for the next few days spoke only of warm, sunny days and comfortable nights. Even the stench from the future farmland had abated to the point of mere annoyance. With this weekend came her first opportunity since the cruise for she and Jesse to enjoy an evening together – and alone. After school, the couple picked up a picnic dinner Ellie had packed for them and headed down the path towards the old Boone place. The limited daylight would prevent them from going far, but a mile stroll into the woods was enough for privacy. And Leslie had planned this outing since Jesse's birthday to reveal the full nature of her mysterious birthday note.

Hand-in-hand, the two went their way and reached a clearing off the path at about four-thirty. Jesse unfolded a plastic ground cloth and Leslie shook out a thinning pale green blanket that had seen better days. On a thick bed of pine needles, the two lay down and started unpacking the food and talking.

"Jess, about that note I gave you for your birthday," Leslie started. Her voice was shy and coy, not its usual confident tone.

"Oh, yeah, I figured you'd get around to it after the show was over. What's the big surprise?" He'd noted that there was no package in sight.

"Jess, I want to give you something that's personal and shows how much I love you," she started, then burst into laughter at the sight of Jesse's look of consternation. "Not _that_, Jess" _Maybe next year._ Batting her eyes seductively, Leslie rolled over next to her best friend and continued, "I want to rejoin the RCIC program at church."

Still a bit stunned by his misinterpretation of Leslie's initial statement, it took Jesse a moment to fully realize what he'd been told. But as the jolt wore off, so did his miasma of concern and he rolled atop his friend and wrapped her in his arms. "You mean it? Really?"

A muffled reply sounded affirming, but breathless, too.

"Sorry, Les," he laughed, rolling back off. Leslie gulped in air, smiling nonetheless, and traded places, pinning Jesse to the ground with the full length of her body. They gazed into each other's eyes and began kissing.

In the six weeks since his first tentative physical exploration of Leslie on the cruise, nothing as deep had happened – there had been virtually no opportunity. The fading memories of her form and absolute delight at the news, however, emboldened him and his hands worked their way from her face downward to find the t-shirt she was wearing firmly tucked into her jeans. In trying to find a way to her flesh, it was impossible for Jesse to hide what he was doing.

Leslie broke away from the kissing and smiled down at him. She could feel that her friend was excited by the situation and she couldn't resist saying, "Are you looking for something?"

"Um…sorry," he answered quickly and guiltily, hands darting back up to Leslie's arms and eyes looking away.

"I'm _teasing_ you, Jess. Don't you _dare_ stop!"

"What…? Really? It's _okay_?"

Sighing to herself, Leslie nodded and smiled. She sat up and pulled the hem of her shirt out. She also considered taking it off but didn't want to push her luck, so she lay back down and gave her boyfriend an encouraging smile before returning to his mouth. A short while later, nearing despair, she finally felt the flesh of Jesse's palms against the skin of her waist. He was amazingly gently and soft and patient, despite the obvious interest in feeling her up.

When his hands reached her bra, Leslie felt Jesse exhale. He apparently had forgotten about this particular barrier and she cursed silently for having worn one at all. Another long minute passed as he clumsily searched for the clasp, and two more while he fumbled to unhook it. Sweating, red in the face, he finally got the two-pronged hook undone; it took Leslie all her willpower to keep from laughing - and helping.

Jesse fully understood what he was doing as he moved his hands forward and felt the edges of Leslie's breasts. She was not a large girl on top he knew, and had noticed by touch weeks earlier, but rather delightfully, absorbingly, heart-stoppingly, she was completely Leslie Burke – through-and-through.

His Leslie Burke.

The joy of learning something new about a person – especially someone you love – didn't truly register with Jesse until after an hour of exploration, experimentation, entertainment and exhilaration. The lively blonde he had come to love so deeply has never ceased to amaze and surprise him with her warmth and care. She had become almost everything to him emotionally. The surprise about her rejoining the church conversion program gave him a deep spiritual contentment. And even the newly completed clumsy first steps into becoming sexually active seemed to (finally) fit properly. Aside from some initial shyness on both parts, the actions felt far more appropriate than sinful or unseemly.

Leslie read Jesse's mind perfectly, too, seeing and sensing a deep contentment in her boyfriend. It nearly made her choke up. The long journey she had begun a year ago to give Jesse more self confidence and comfort with their physical relationship was paying off. And while the progression was slow, and would very likely remain that way, Leslie found she was enjoying the process more than the end result. In fact, she was enjoying it much more than she would have expected.

Clothing and hair disheveled, the two held each other, now more for warmth than anything else. Dinner was long forgotten and the shadows of trees were fading with the rapidly dimming light. Both knew they had to get home; neither wanted to move.

"Les…"

"Jess…"

They spoke at the same time, and with obvious reluctance broke apart and started gathering their things. Jesse cursed in frustration as he folded the uncooperative plastic ground cloth now stiff with the cool evening air. Leslie helped him when she had finished with the blanket.

Approaching her house, Leslie stopped and looked at her best friend. He was smiling a smile of contentment and ease and she mouthed _I love you, _kissed him, and then asked, "Sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm _great_. You?"

An ardent smile. "_Fabulous!_"

Both meant it. They looked into each other's eyes, and holding hands said a final good night and parted. Leslie immediately went inside to make a very long entry into her diary; not in her daily diary, but one she kept secret and very well hidden. One she would never show to anyone except, _maybe_, Jesse Aarons.

* * *

"And how was the picnic, little bro? Like my egg and tuna salad?"

Ellie was spending the weekend at home while Toby was in Bethesda for the last treatment for his eyes and she had volunteered to pack the basket for her brother's date. Jesse and Leslie had forgotten all about eating – there were other more appealing things on their mind at the time. When he heard Ellie laugh he knew he'd been busted. She walked into the dining room with two wrapped sandwiches, one in each hand.

"You two didn't eat a thing, did you? At least not _food_. Okay, spill it, Jess." She dropped the wraps on the table and sat across from her mute and scarlet-faced brother.

"Um…" was all Jesse could think to say. He'd come to love Ellie dearly, and relied on her for advice – even about some intimate matters – but wasn't going to share these details. At least not yet. "We weren't hungry, that's all. Maybe I'll have mine now."

With a hard, piercing look, Ellie shrugged and pushed one of the sandwiches across the table. "Have it your way. Oh, Barb Keane called and wants to talk to you. Her number's on the…"

"I know it," Jesse nearly shouted, and with the sandwich again forgotten, ran to his room to return the call.

As Jesse dialed, his hands shook. He had known for some time that Barbara's call was coming, but he dreaded it nonetheless. Her father's trial began in a few days and she was one of the first witnesses for the prosecution. But what she wanted from him – his presence and emotional support – was asking a lot. He would have to miss at least a couple days of school, though that was nothing to facing the graphic testimony from his friend and her sisters. He still felt queasy thinking about what the man had done to his daughters.

"So," Barbara drew out the two letter word so it sounded like ten. "The trial starts a week from Monday and I'm scheduled for testimony Thursday and Friday. Can you still come?"

"Yeah, sure. You want Les to come, too, if she can?" He tried to sound more willing than he felt.

"She can't, I just talked to her. Her parents won't allow it."

"Oh, okay. Still at the Lark Creek court house?"

"Yes, the judge refused the change of venue. I'm a little worried about that; this is a small community and finding eighteen jurors was difficult. No one wants this overturned on appeal."

_I guess not._ "Okay. You, um, ready for this?" he asked upon hearing Barbara sob.

"What do _you_ think? I haven't seen him in nine months and am about to expose myself to the entire community. I bet every pervert at school will be there to hear the details."

In an attempt to lighten the conversation, Jesse said that that would be impossible because half the school would be absent. The effort failed.

"Ha ha ha. You should have been at the witness prep thing I did. The lawyers asked me everything except my measurements. And they were _my_ lawyers!"

Grimacing, Jesse tried to encourage his friend more and ended the call a short time later feeling as if he'd failed miserly. Then he rang Leslie and discussed it with her. "Let's send her some flowers. Maggie, too," he suggested. "They're both probably getting no sleep and freaking-out over this whole thing."

Leslie agreed and said she would send them each a dozen roses and a nice card. It made _him_ feel better, but Jesse was hardly concerned with himself.

In fact, the expected sensation of the incest and abuse trial of the Keane patriarch was lost for a while in the news from the Middle East, in particular the war in Iran. A coup in the Islamic Republic had overthrown the Ayatollah and set up a more moderate, peace seeking government. So the month of May began brightly, and with positive news from the other side of the globe for once. Fortunately for Barbara Keane these geopolitical events coincided with her two days of testimony; it did not make them easier, however, only less public.

Jesse sat with Barbara and her sisters (minus Jen who was in the middle of exams and would arrive the following week) and a few other friends from Lark Creek. Aside from the prosecution lawyers, they also had two social workers and a court-appointed liaison nearby. The girls had the adviser to help them understand what was being said and done at the trial. With all the added bodies, Jesse found himself feeling useless. Only the occasional smile from Barbara or one of the other girls made him feel as if he was serving any purpose.

As expected, Barbara's testimony and cross examination began the Thursday of the second week of the trial. Few of the details were new to Jesse, as he and Leslie had spoken with Barbara extensively over the past seven months, yet they still made him ill hearing about the brainwashing and a few of the more graphic details she needed to bring up to help the case.

When the prosecution was finished, the defense lawyer began taking her shots at the teen's story. The most disturbing part of this, for Jesse, was the way the lawyers seemed to manipulate whatever Barbara said to make it appear she was the aggressor in the affair. Looking over to the jury, Jesse sometimes thought he could read their expressions and see when a point was scored.

The common thread throughout the defense's questioning, and the one that raised the most objections, dealt with the children's lack of ability to distinguish what was appropriate behavior. Knowing she would be allowed very little latitude with Maddie, and Maggie and her older sister were not abused as the youngest three girls, the defense lawyer slammed Barbara over and over. The prosecution stopped raising objections after an hour and called for a brief recess where they counseled the witness to answer truthfully and directly. Further objections, they said, would only draw attention to the defense's point, even if it was bogus. Barbara wiped away a tear and returned to the stand. It got worse when the defense shifted their strategy a bit.

"Miss Keane, I have your transcripts from school in England and here in Lark Creek; five years worth…"

The prosecutor rose to object but the judge cut him off. "Watch yourself, Ms. Green, you know those are _not_ public records."

"Yes, your honor, I was not going to speak to the details but the general trend of Miss Keane's education."

The judge gave a warning nod.

"Over the past five years, since you were ten, your records show a steady increase in your grades. Do you consider yourself a reasonably intelligent young lady?"

"Yes."

"And have you always felt yourself reasonably intelligent?"

"Yes, I think so."

In spite of his earlier comment to Barbara, the prosecutor objected again.

"Your honor, this was covered earlier. Do we really need to…"

Looking even more provoked, the judge held up his hand. "Where are you going with this, Ms. Green?"

"Approach, your honor?"

He waved the lawyers forward. "What is it, Ms. Green?"

"Your honor, we were not allowed to depose the witnesses in regard to their schooling, for obvious reasons." She gave a condescending nod to the prosecutor. "I only ask for a little latitude as Miss Barbara Keane is very likely the only one of the sisters who can form a mature opinion about what happened."

"Ms. Green, you're this close to crossing the line, but I will allow you a _very little_ leeway. However, I want no repetition of previous questions and absolutely no details about this girl's private life outside of the case before us. Do you understand?"

"Yes, judge."

The prosecutor patted Barbara's arm on the way back to his seat.

"Barbara, to repeat, have you always felt yourself reasonably intelligent?"

"Yes."

"And your birthday was May the tenth?"

Confused by the odd change of questioning, Barbara looked to the prosecutor. He nodded. "That's correct: May tenth, nineteen ninety-seven."

"Do you recall your twelfth birthday, back in England?"

"I…" She hesitated.

"Miss Keane?"

"Yeah…Yes, some of it."

"Do you recall what you asked your father for on that birthday?"

Jesse immediately noticed his friend's face go white. Whatever it was she asked for, he knew, she was surprised the defense knew about it. He looked to the prosecutor and saw only the profile of a blank face.

"I…Yes."

"Please tell the court what you asked your father for, on your twelfth birthday, Miss Keane."

"I…I…"

"Your honor, please instruct the witness to answer the question."

"Miss Keane, please answer."

"He said…I asked him…"

And the defense jumped in: "Didn't you ask your father to show you, quote, _how to do it the right way_, unquote?"

"I…but..."

"Yes or no, Miss Keane: You were referring to intimate relations: Sexual intercourse, correct?"

"Yes, but..."

"Miss Keane, earlier you testified that it was _always_ your father who initiated any intimate contact. How do you explain this _birthday_ request? If your father _always_ initiated these activities, why were you asking for him to, in your words, show you how to do it the right way?"

"I…. I don't remember. Maybe I was confused. That was years ago."

"But you had no trouble recalling and testifying that your father initiated _everything_. So which is correct?"

"Objection, your honor. Asked and answered."

"I'll rephrase the question, judge. Was it always your father, Miss Keane, who initiated everything or did _you_ ask for it now and then? Or did you _always_ ask for it?"

"That's enough, Ms. Green," the judge cut in. Then quietly to the defense lawyer, "You've made your point."

"Yes, your honor. No more questions for this witness."

The prosecution's lead lawyer stood at his table and tapped a pen on the palm of his hand for a few seconds. "Redirect, your honor?" He nodded. "Barbara, when did you begin to suspect that your father's activities were inappropriate?"

Fighting back tears, the witness answered. "About two years ago, when I found out he was doing…doing the same things with Maddie and Terri."

"But you did nothing, even then. Why?"

"Because I trusted him, and my mother. I _trusted_ them." The last phrase came out as if spoken by a dead person.

"Thank you, Barbara. No more questions, your honor."

The judge gaveled the trial recessed for the day, the jury was excused, and Jesse watched Barbara leave the witness stand and go straight to the prosecutor. He did not look pleased. The defense team, on the other hand, left with thinly hidden smiles.

"They shouldn't be too happy," a voice spoke up behind Jesse. It was Maggie.

"Um…wasn't what Barb said bad?"

"Nah…. Okay, maybe a little. They have no way to really defend the bastard, only gain some sympathy with the jury. They'll be the ones doing the sentencing. Green's going to work any angle she can for a reduced sentence."

Jesse hoped she was right. As Maggie and Maddie walked up to their sister, however, it was very clear that the prosecutor had been surprised by this information, and he didn't like surprises.

Late on the second day of her testimony, Barbara, obviously tired and upset, seemed to contradict some of her previous testimony and the defense lawyer jumped on this, too. Hearing the exchanges made Jesse furious, dizzy, and nauseated. He felt like crying out in protest more than once; but Maggie, seeing his anxiety, leaned forward from her seat and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. When Barbara was excused, she did not return to her bench but left the court room straightaway. Jesse followed and met his pale and shaken friend in the corridor. They sat to talk.

"Jess, you know what I hate more than anything about this whole trial? It's that bitch making it sound like I was to blame for this." Barbara got no farther before breaking down and crying on his shoulder. He comforted her as best he could until her sisters and Aunt from Woodbridge appeared and took her off. It was four o'clock on a Friday afternoon and Jesse had a long bike ride home, _but at least_, he thought, _it's not raining_.

The Keane trial ended as June started and the father was found guilty of multiple felonies. Under Virginia law, he was sentenced to a minimum of twenty years in a state penitentiary and forbidden from contacting his daughters by any means. The charges of murder for the death of Terri Keane had never made it past the grand jury months before, but all the children were happy that this part of their life was over. Jen also pointed out to Jesse that child molesters were considered the scum of the prison by the inmates and their unusual code of justice. She said he wouldn't last long, but that only made Jesse's stomach turn.

Mrs. Keane never went to trial. She pled guilty to a number of lesser charges and was sentenced to ten years in a medium security facility. Jesse and Leslie told Barbara they thought she got off light, but their friend simply shook her head sadly, she still had a long way to go to make a full recovery - and some of the scars would never heal.

* * *

A month after Janice Burke was born, Bill and Judy received a letter from the clerk of Arlington County. Inside the legal envelope was a letter forwarded to them from their son. The brief note, Judy told Mary when she visited later that day, said that he wished to meet them, but also expressed a hesitance to invade and disrupt their lives. While the baby nursed to sleep, the women spoke and traded ideas. In the end, Mary went home doubtful that the reunion would take place.

At dinner that evening in the Burke home, Leslie voiced her opinion. Bill and Judy listened, but still refused to make a decision. Their seeming indecisiveness baffled the teen and she pushed her parents to the point that Bill snapped.

"Leslie, _you don't have any idea what you're taking about_. This man is an interesting enigma to you, but to your mother and I he's the symbol of…" He was lost for the right word and looked to Judy.

"_Failure_, Les," her mother finally said. Then more soberly, "It nearly destroyed us – your father and I." She stood and left the table in tears.

Bill, nearly as upset as his wife, hung his head and followed after a minute.

Leslie felt terrible.

* * *

Plans for Ellie and Toby's church wedding were finally set for early October. The eldest Aarons girls spent many hours planning and plotting with their mother. The joyous event seemed to consume the three females whenever they were together. Leslie considered joining in, but found the silliness too much. May, on the other hand, added her ideas of grand plans, mostly centering around herself in a bridesmaid dress.

* * *

The final planned activity of the spring was the Memorial Day campout Jesse and Leslie had arranged with Tom and Grace. Their friends were leaving immediately after school ended on June 8th and this would be their last chance to be together for a while. The outing came and went in a mixture of joy and sorrow, for there was a great deal to look back upon over three years. Death, birth, meetings and separations: all these blended together in conversation and kept the four teens up most of Saturday night.

Tom brought along a number of cases for carrying flora samples – he had never lost his interest in botany - to take something living to their new home that would remind him of his old home and young friends.

Grace, who always seemed to be on the short end of the BFF stick, had finally made a close friend with a fellow eighth-grader and spent much of the three days lamenting their upcoming separation.

Jesse and Leslie felt the pain the least: They had each other and a cadre of new friends at school. Still, Jesse reflected Sunday evening with Leslie about their first encounters with the Jacobs family at Virginia Beach four years earlier. He recalled how jealous he was when Tom began to show too much attention to her. Leslie had never heard this story, but when reminded of the vacation, said she found it easy to believe.

"You _do_ get jealous sometimes, Jess," she said with affection.

"Yeah, sorry..." he started to reply, but turned and ended it with a kiss.

It was three in the morning and Tom and Grace were asleep. Jesse and Leslie sat together watching the camp fire burn down to yellow and orange coals. The mountain night, cool and cloudless, seemed to magnify the Milky Way above. Occasional shooting stars only added to the loving ambiance that bound the two teens.

Awhirl in each of their minds was their future, individually and together. And while Leslie believed she had long ago cast aside any doubt about what lay ahead for them, Jesse was only now coming to understand the permanency of the bonds they'd nurtured and what they might mean in the years to come.

But as with most fifteen year old couples, the future was even now a lifetime away. Serious thoughts of things like marriage and family, while entertained in fantasies and play, were still distant, indistinct...remote. The rapidly changing world in which they lived constantly reminded them of war, separation and death.

Finally exhausted, the couple crawled a few feet to their tent, shed their shoes, and climbed into the two sleeping bags which had been zipped together. Following a minute of adjusting positions, Jesse and Leslie, wrapped tightly together against the cold, kissed, and drifted off to a few hours of sleep. The last thoughts for both teens were decidedly tranquil and uncommonly platonic.

* * *

Two days before the end of the school year, Jesse and Leslie walked from the lunch room, hand-in-hand, relieved that exams were complete and their last days as freshmen were imminent. The seniors had already graduated and only had to show up to clean out their lockers. And this Thursday afternoon was the annual academic awards ceremony in the gym. As they rounded a corner before the central locker plaza, both stopped and found themselves only feet from Gary Fulcher, Ricky Manning, Steve Hoager - and a fourth hidden form. Fulcher and Manning were helping the senior collect his things and making fawning comments about getting tickets to the Penn State games that fall.

But it wasn't so much this triple threat that troubled and alarmed them as the nearly unrecognizable form of the younger Hoager – Scott - whom neither had seen for over a year. He stood noticeably taller and straighter, his blonde hair, cropped very short, was almost invisible, and the obvious semi-military fatigues with his military academy patch made the teen appear more mature than his fifteen years.

To complete the brief and astonishing reunion, Scott merely looked at them and gave a brief nod. Jesse could have sworn it was not altogether unfriendly, but he felt Leslie's hand tighten around his. Then the visitor and former student went back to loading his older brother's collection of junk into a box, pausing now and then to scrutinize an object, often with an expression of disgust.

"What do you want, A-B?" Manning snarled, finally seeing the couple.

Jesse glanced at Leslie and winked. "'A-B'? Oh, _Aarons-Burke_, very clever, Ricky. A little above your IQ to think up something that witty, isn't it?"

What happened next astounded nearly everyone there. Manning made a move to tackle Jesse, but found himself held back by Scott's tight grip on his arm. Astounded, Manning looked to Steve for assistance but he just shrugged.

"Steve isn't going to help you, are you, big brother?"

"Nope."

"Why the hell not? We've waited all year to pound these two ass holes into the ground…"

"Shut it, Manning," Steve snapped.

"Listen up you two idiots," snarled Scott, "Steve can still lose his scholarship so he ain't going to cause problems. And you two had better learn to cool down." With that, Scott released Ricky's arm and went back to work. Manning and Fulcher stood dumbfounded for a moment, but soon went back to what they'd been doing.

Jesse and Leslie backed off and then turned to walk away. They only got a few steps when Scott called out. "Hey, Burke…you're looking good."

Too astounded to answer, Leslie just gave her former tormenter a cautious wave and continued on her way. When they had turned another corner, Jesse stopped and looked at his girlfriend.

"Can you believe that?"

"People change, Jess."

"Yeah, I guess…"

Later that afternoon, academic awards were presented to seven freshmen, all of whom had earned straight A's – overall - in their first year: Jesse Aarons was called up first and stumbled forward in a daze. Of the award winners he was the most surprised. He had carried a B in Spanish all year. "I musta aced the final. I can't believe this," he whispered to Tom and Leslie.

Not surprisingly, his girlfriend was the next person called up.

Jesse again earned top honors for art, and Leslie a disappointing second place in drama. Tom told her she only came in second because the school always awards top honors to a senior.

And then ninth grade was over.

Two days later the Jacobs left Lark Creek. The farewells were long and tearful for all involved. The family had gone through a lot over the past three years, but it was mainly the separation of friends that even got Tom a little choked-up. He only brightened up a bit after Lisa and Carol had gone home and Leslie gave him one last hug goodbye and a kiss on his cheek. Next to them, Jesse was embracing Grace; he wanted to say something but his tongue was tied and he knew there was nothing he could say anyway.

As the Jacobs drove away in the cloud of dust from the moving van, Jesse took Leslie's hand. "Let's go home," he said in a quiet voice.

* * *

**The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, many years later...**

"When will they get here, Daddy?" the four-year-old asked her father for the fiftieth time that day.

"Tomorrow, Becky," he replied patiently, "in the afternoon. Now good night…"

"Tell me about Leslie again, Daddy. _Pleeeeease!_"

"Not tonight, kiddo, you need…"

"Oh, _please_, one more time, Daddy."

Looking down at his daughter, the man smiled warmly. He never could resister her; it was a wonder she was not spoiled rotten.

"Leslie Burke was my best friend from Lark Creek. She was beautiful, kind, passionate, caring. Everyone who knew her was so sad when she left and moved to Los Angeles to be in the movies." The man paused for a moment as a never-completely-purged ache showed on his face. "It broke some peoples' heart."

"Yours, Daddy? Did she break your heart?"

He smiled fondly. "A little. We had been apart for a while at that point so it wasn't too bad."

Behind the man, a woman stood watching and listening to the conversation. She had heard it dozens of times before and it always made her a little wary. Her husband had been very attached to Leslie Burke, she knew. And although she herself knew the woman a little, she was always a bit jealous that her husband had such fond memories of this person. She cleared her throat. "Time for bed, Becky."

"_Aw, mom_. Can't Daddy finish the story?"

"Sweetheart, we'll see Aunt Leslie tomorrow and she can tell it to you in person."

A dreamy look came over the child's face: She smiled and acquiesced. In less than a minute she was asleep.

The couple walked down the second floor hallway, stopping at the door to each of their other four children's rooms, listening, then moving to the family room. When they were settled, snuggled in front of the crackling fire, the wife asked again, "Regrets?"

"_No_, not regrets. Honestly. I just get lost in those _what ifs_ now and then. I'm sure there's some unhealthy psychological term for it."

Laughing at himself, he turned and kissed his wife of fifteen years. That was something that would not change – his love for the woman next to him. She accepted the tacit apology and eagerly threw herself into the kiss, wondering if _six_ children would be irresponsible.

* * *

Lark Creek changed little after Jesse and Leslie finished their freshman year in high school and the Jacobs moved away. Buildings came and went, a farmer's market every Saturday and Wednesday sprung up in the town square. A now popular Boy Scout reservation opened just a few miles away. Stores, schools, municipal buildings remained - in short, everything a proud and thriving community could support.

A couple miles outside of the town, Bill and Judy Burke still live in their house and write mostly young adult fiction, but only part-time now. Of their two younger children, Janice and James, the younger married and lives in Roanoke and the elder works on the farm with his father and neighbor, Mr. Aarons.

After many months of soul-searching and discussions, Judy and Bill decided to meet their adopted son in the summer of 2012. But the surprise was on them – and him. God or fate had thrown the Burke's first child back into their midst long before either knew it and everyone was astonished they had not noticed the resemblances sooner. At a dinner with the Aarons family one evening, Bill and Judy announced that they would be meeting their son in Roanoke. Anton Williams – Brenda's boyfriend – collapsed into a chair saying he was going there to meet his parents.

When the shock and disruption subsided, Anton told the story about how he had been able to trace his birth parents to the Roanoke vicinity years before. When an Army job opened in the area he took it in hopes of somehow finding them. Little did anyone know how accurate his guesses turned out to be. Brenda and Anton were married two years later and now live in Harrisonburg.

Toby and Ellie, still happily married and the parents of three war orphans, moved back to Lark Creek a few years ago when Jack and Bill needed full time assistance on the farm.

Brian Aarons is a second lieutenant in the Army and stationed in England. He's unmarried and enjoys that status.

Joyce and May Aarons are both married and expecting their first and second child respectively. Joyce lives in Lynchburg, May in Lark Creek.

Mary Aarons had a moderately serious heart attack a couple years back and now takes it easy at home. Otherwise, the family's health has been excellent.

Jen and Maggie Keane both became physicians. Jen spends a few months every year working in third world countries in the _Doctors Without Boarders_ program. Maggie specialized in child psychiatry; she practices in Roanoke and maintains a professional relationship with Dr. Carlson.

Barbara Keane married out of college and divorced a few years later. She remarried and now lives in Richmond with her husband and children.

Grace Jacobs is happily married to a long-time friend and lives in Wilmington, North Carolina, near her father.

Makayla Flynn went to work for the Richmond Times-Dispatch after college and never married.

Lisa Silliard danced professionally for a number of years with Riverdance. She is now married and raising a family.

Carol Silliard and Mikey Sellers got back together a couple years after college and share an apartment in Baltimore. Mikey works for Glidden Paints and Carol is a kindergarten teacher. They have two children.

Billy Eccles went to college in Cincinnati and remained in the area after graduation.

Ricky Manning was in and out of trouble with the police throughout high school. In the summer following his graduation, he and a group of friends traveled west and were never seen again in Lark Creek. Few mourned their absence.

Gary Fulcher was killed in a drunk driving accident his senior year at LCHS.

Steve Hoager played college football at Penn State and was drafted in the fifth round by the Detroit Lions. His career was cut short by a knee injury after three seasons in the NFL. He is now an assistant football coach at LCHS.

Scott Hoager enjoyed a successful career in the Army and retired due to battle injuries after fifteen years and with the rank of captain. He was instrumental in shaping the reconstituted military forces of Iran and earned a number of citations for bravery as well as three Purple Heart during the seemingly unending mop-up operations in the Middle East.

Tim Haskell and Julie Summers eloped a couple years after the cruise on which they had met. The marriage was difficult and they separated a couple time until Julie quit acting and decided to focus her energies on the marriage. They are now enjoying a quiet life with one special needs child.

And finally:

Leslie Burke spent two weeks in Denver in the summer of 2012 learning about professional acting. At the end of the course a group of invited agents and managers from Los Angeles came out to scout for talent they'd be interested in representing in LA. About three weeks later, Leslie's life was turned upside down when she was invited to venture out to Los Angeles and audition for television programs, movies and ads. Bill and Judy were skeptical, but her father took the fifteen year old west in August and she spent two weeks making more than forty auditions. She left with a booking for a commercial spot - and a great deal of excitement.

Over the next two summers and a few holiday vacations, Leslie earned a number of TV and movie parts, all roles scrutinized and approved by her parents. But by her senior year she had to make a decision about whether to go to college or turn full-time actor. In Hollywood she was popular and in demand, with a reputation for being a rising talent. All these things, however, did not blind her to the fact that she and Jesse would be forced apart. They were still _together_, but the strain of the long west coast divisions and upcoming college separation would force the issue. The Massachusetts College of Art offered Jesse a full scholarship in January of his senior year. After much soul-searching he took Leslie for a walk on their farm determined to make a decision about their future life together. It led to a number of difficult decisions.

Before that point, however, and in the summer between their sophomore and junior years, Jesse and Leslie finally found the special place Mr. Boone had told them about many years earlier. Hidden in the far northern edge of the property, deep in a hollow accessible only by a steep, winding trail, was a small bubbling spring of warm, sulfur-scented water. It percolated from the rocky soil at a comfortable eighty degrees twelve months a year and made for a cozy spot to hang out. On the granite walls surrounding the natural hot tub were the drawings and carvings of the first explorers in the area: the Native Americans. Leslie took pictures of the drawings to the Roanoke Pioneer Museum and found they dated back more than four hundred years. Unfortunately, the individual portions of land both had inherited from their friend had long since been selected and did not include the spring. The remainder of the property now belonged to the Boy Scouts of America for use as a summer camp, as Mr. Boone had wished. Jesse and Leslie, however, still found time to spend many days and weekends in this quiet, private spa and never revealed its location to anyone. It would only be spoiled, they agreed.

* * *

"_Aunt Leslie!_" a young voice cried out before the lovely blonde woman had so much as set a foot on the ground. The rapid patter of feet spoke of the approaching child more than her blurred and faint shadow in the dim porch light.

"Becky! Is that you?" Leslie answered, knowing it _was_ her nominal niece. The child threw herself into the van and the arms of her favorite aunt. Outside the late model electric, a chorus of other voices emanating from the house told of a large family gathering. Leslie felt like she was home as she embraced the child.

A boy – now a man – who once cared deeply for her, helped the former actress out of the car, an action made more difficult by the advanced state of her pregnancy. "Becky, be careful," he admonished his daughter.

"Oh, she's fine. How's Maddie? I see Becky still has her mother's wild red hair."

"You know, a Keane trait. Everyone else is inside and warm but Becky had to wait for you out here, so I sat with her. How are you, Les?" Tom Jacobs, smiling brightly, pulled his friend into a warm embrace. He released her and bent his head to look into the van, winking when he saw a face that had changed little over the years. "Jess, how's tricks?"

Smiling at the ever-present double entendre in Tom's question, Jesse Aarons replied, "Number five on the way, so they're obviously good." Their eyes met and two decades of history passed between them.

Late Thanksgiving evening, when all the guests had departed and the herd of cousins and family were in their beds, Jesse and Leslie donned their warmest clothes and went for a walk to look at the farm. The nearly full moon was shining brightly and lit the way toward the grounds.

First they walked up the drive to the Burke's home. The old concrete patio where Leslie once washed off skunk musk was not bigger and covered with flag stone. Then back down past Bill's old, rusting tool shed where a coil of rope still lay high upon a shelf, one end frayed. They walked over the creek – a permanent bridge had been erected many years before – and passed the nearly invisible remnants of the old pickup rusting away and covered in brown-leafed vines. A tree house, long ago a castle, had decayed but for a single board nailed crookedly into the trunk, a remnant of the once grand staircase.

Across the harvested fields, through the garden, past the barns for livestock and farm equipment, Jesse and Leslie strolled to a secluded spot, a small dell in the woods by the north creek. They paused and looked on silently, thinking back many years. Then Leslie spoke, a touch of mischief in her voice. "You always bring me back here, Jess. I'm beginning to think this place has a special meaning to you."

"Nah, nothing particularly special."

Leslie gave a little cry and swatted at her husband's arm. He barely felt it through the layers of clothing and a mind distracted by memories of the spot where they had first made love. Then they turned to each other and embraced - a bit askance with Leslie eight months pregnant, but they managed. Lost in thoughts and memories, as they always were when visiting home, that single event still shone through brightly.

"I'll never forget, Jess," she said softly into his ear, and felt his mouth smile.

"Yeah. It was…"

"Amazing."

"Special."

"Magical."

Jesse laughed. "_Clumsy!_"

Giggling, Leslie agreed. "A little, but worth it."

"Yeah, _definitely_ worth it." He paused and then pointed to the hollow. "Once more, for old-time sake?"

"Not on your life, Jesse Aarons!" squealed his best friend. "It's _freezing_, I'm as big as a cow, and besides…."

He stopped her with a finger on her lips and a nod of his head. And a heart-warming smile. Then the lovers and soul-mates, husband and wife, dissolved into laughter and finally into a kiss.

The End

Revision 1.1, December, 2008


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